


Winter's War and a Dream of Spring

by WhiteravenGreywolf



Series: The Green Dragon [4]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV), The 100 (TV)
Genre: But only in the sense that I had to bridge the gap between canon and my headcanon, Fix-It, Game of Thrones AU, Game of Thrones Alternate Season 08, Game of Thrones Spoiler, If Lexa had existed in season 8, Kid!Lexa, Lexa is a Targaryen, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-10-21 07:09:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 43,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20689520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhiteravenGreywolf/pseuds/WhiteravenGreywolf
Summary: Good things must always come to an end, and Lexa learned it the hard way. Everything was looking up for her and her mother. They'd made it to Westeros, they'd reclaimed their ancestrial home. Then the King in the North arrived with grim news of the dead, and a Usurper was still seating on her mother's throne.





	1. Winterfell

**Author's Note:**

> I promised it, and there it is! Hi guys! It's been a while! Over a year, if I remember correctly! Now before I go on about this story, if you're a newcomer I suggest you stop right there, and take the time to read Rise of the Green Dragon first. RotGD shows Lexa through season 2 to 7 of Game of Thrones, while this story will focus entirely on season 8. I could take the time to reexplain everything, but I'm not gonna cause it would take probably as long as this chapter. So if you're interested in the whole story, go read Rise of the Green Dragon. If you're not and you just want to read this story, then just read this story. Not like I can tell you off or something...  
Anyway! When Rise of the Green Dragon ended, I promised I would add Lexa to season 8. I remember vividly, I said "give me enough time to rewatch the season a few times, and then I'll get to work on it" And then season 8 happened... I don't want to spend a thousand words ranting about it, better, more clever people have done it all over the internet already. Simply know, that I was in a bit of a funk for a few weeks trying to decide whether I was gonna do season 8 or not. Each passing episode was like a scream of agony for me where I kept thinking "Oh god my headcanon is dead, how the hell am I gonna write Lexa in season 8?" But I did! It took me time, it took me watching Lindsay Ellis' videos a few times and yes, rewatching season 8 again (only 3 episodes and a half though, I couldn't get through episod 4 a second time) but I did it!  
So what can you expect? 6 chapters, each one based more or less on the 6 episodes of the season. A lot of motherly love, a lot of Lexa making friends and becoming the greatest warrior in the world. I will be posting chapters twice a week, on Wednesday and Saturday. I suggest you follow the story if you don't want to miss a thing, and as usual, I hope you enjoy!

Lexa remembered the first time she ever saw snow. They were almost at White Harbor, from which they would continue to Winterfell on horseback. She was seating on the deck of the ship, a book in her hands, trying to distract herself from the boring journey. Suddenly, something fell on her hand. She hadn't noticed it at first. The cold air had taken over the entire ship almost as soon as they had left Dragonstone, and Lexa had been wearing furs and gloves without fail every single hour of the day. She was so wrapped up in her furs that she could have been mistaken for a small chubby wolf easily.

Something fell on her hand again, and then on her book, and then on her head. She frowned and looked up. Tiny white snowflakes were falling over them, plummeting from the sky with feather-like grace. Lexa gasped and her eyes grew wide.

“Is it snowing?” she asked, to no one in particular.

Since no one answered her, she closed her book and pushed herself up. Snowflakes continued to fall on her. She put her hands together like a cup and tried to catch as many snowflakes as she could. Unfortunately, they were all falling slowly, and almost as soon as they touched her hand they melted. She barely had any time to look at them closely before they'd disappeared forever.

She walked back and forth on the ship's upper deck, her hands reached out to grab snow, for almost ten minutes. Sometimes she would try to reach overboard, thinking there would be more snow falling into the sea, but it was mostly in vain. The sailors watched her do with amusement, which Lexa didn't seem to notice.

“Lexa?”

Lexa stopped dead in her tracks and looked over at the corridor which led further down into the ship. Her mother was standing there, hidden from the snow, Jon by her side.

“What are you doing?”

“It's snowing, mother, look!”

Lexa ran up to her mother, her hands still cupped together. By the time she reached Daenerys, however, all the snow in her hands had melted again. Her mother, however, had no difficulty seeing the snow, as many white flakes had tangled themselves in Lexa's dark brown hair.

“It is,” Daenerys replied, agreeing with her daughter.

"Don't get too excited," Jon added, "There's snow everywhere at this time of year."

Still, Lexa ignored Jon's comment and started running again around the ship, trying to collect snowflakes, until the air had grown so cold and bitter that she could barely feel her face. Then, Anya took it upon herself to drag the six-year-old back to her room and sit her down under a pile of blankets, where she left her until it was time for supper.

* * *

They arrived at White Harbor late into the night and left the boats shortly after. Lexa was half asleep on Bleeding Star when they started their journey north, and Anya, who was riding beside her, had to shake her awake a few times. Thankfully, Bleeding Star knew exactly what he was doing, and he carried his rider carefully, even when she fell asleep and started drooling on his mane.

The road to Winterfell was covered with snow, so much so that Lexa grew bored of it in the same week that she had discovered it. Everything was white and dead, and she imagined it wouldn't grow any livelier the further north they advanced. The rhythmic sound of the Unsullied walking beside them was reassuring. It was a sound Lexa was used to. The sounds of coordinated footsteps and shields banging lightly were sounds Lexa had grown up with, and in her mind, they only meant victory.

She could see the snowy castle from very far, and at first, she doubted it was Winterfell, until she realized they were marching right for it. It was in the middle of a field, and so massive Lexa was sure the place would be even colder than Dragonstone. As they approached, they passed under a stone archway, and through a small village, standing at the foot of the incline leading up to the castle.

People had gathered on one side of the road to watch the army walk through. Her mother was ahead of them, along with Jon, and she knew they garnered most of the looks. But when the people were down gawking at their new Queen, they inevitably started at their Princess. Lexa, once she realized so many looks were on her, snapped out of her tiredness and straightened her back. She raised her head high and tried to look as regal and dignified as she assumed she was supposed to look. Beside her, Anya noticed the change and had to bite her lip so as not to laugh too loudly at the little girl.

Lexa glared at her bodyguard. Anya had ditched her light clothes for warmer ones. Fur lined the inside of her orange coat and she wore two layers of wool over her shirt and under her leather armor. Her bow was still wrapped around her shoulder, though her quiver was attached to her saddle. Lexa was wearing dark furs over crimson wool, both of her daggers on her belt. This was the only trip either of them had ever made North, and in Anya's case, ever would. The chillness of the region, however, was still so firmly holding onto them that the mere thought of going north again made them shiver.

There was a roar, and as her brothers flew overhead, before looping over the castle. Lexa saw with confusion the crowd disperse fearfully. She frowned and looked back at Anya.

“Why are they scared of my brothers? They haven't done anything for them to be scared.”

Lexa remembered the rumors in Meereen, of how the Dragon Queen supposedly fed the people who bothered her to the dragons under the pyramid. She could understand then why people would be scared of them. But here, where her brothers had never been to before, there was no reason to be scared.

"Not everyone is comfortable around dragons like you are, Lexa," Anya replied. "How would you feel if you suddenly got encircled by a pack of direwolves?"

Lexa shrugged. She had no idea.

* * *

Most of the Unsullied stopped by the castle wall to set up camp, joined by the Dothraki as more and more of them arrived. Her mother and Jon waited by the entrance of the castle, making sure everything was in order and everyone was setting up properly. Lexa and Anya came to stand beside them until finally their little gathering of lords and ladies had all reunited, and they marched forward into the castle. 

Inside, they found a small gathering waiting for them. Lexa rode behind her mother and dismounted when she had to, leaving her horse in the care of a Northman. She waited by her mother's side while Jon came to hug his brother and sister. Lexa stared at the small crowd, trying to understand who was who and how important they were.

Jon's brother was in a strange chair with wheels, the likes of which Lexa had never seen before. Furs rested on his lap. He was pale, with dark brown hair. His expression was completely blank, unlike his sister who was happy and relieved to see her brother return. It was as if he didn't care. His mind seemed so far away, even Lexa had no idea where he was.

His sister was taller than Jon. They hugged fiercely. Her red hair was the only splash of color in the assembly of nobles. She wore a dark dress with a small chain wrapped around her neck, and a fur cloak rested on her shoulders. She was pale too, in fact, a glance at the rest of the crowd told Lexa that this pale complexion was normal in this remote part of the world. Behind her, Lexa recognized Brienne of Tarth, from the Dragon Pit. She was also surprised to find children among the crowd, some of which seemed just a few years older than her.

A woman wrapped in a fur cloak was standing beside Jon's sister. She was gorgeous, with flowing brown hair cascading down her back and mischievous brown eyes. She was wrapped so tightly in her cape that Lexa could only assume she wasn't a northerner, as all of the others seemed to have no problem resisting the cold.

After hugging his sister and speaking to her briefly, Jon turned around. Both of their eyes found Daenerys and Lexa. Lexa, who'd felt everyone's gaze on her so strongly, remained pinned to the ground, straight as a wooden pillar. Daenerys walked forward and came to stand beside Jon. The silence was so thick Lexa thought she could hear her own heart beating in her chest.

"Queen Daenerys of House Targaryen," Jon introduce her as she stopped beside him. "My sister, Sansa Stark, the Lady of Winterfell."

Daenerys smiled and said:

“Thank you for inviting us into your home, Lady Stark.”

Sansa smiled back, and Daenerys continued:

“The North is as beautiful as your brother claimed.”

Lexa disagreed strongly with her mother. The north was cold and white, like the desert outside of Meereen was hot and yellow, and Dragonstone was wet and green.

Sansa continued to smile and with a nod, she assured:

“Winterfell is yours, Your Grace.”

Lexa thought for a moment her mother was going to beckon her forward, while Sansa seemed ready to speak again, perhaps to introduce the woman beside her. However, Jon's brother suddenly spoke, with a calm yet pressing voice:

“We don't have time for all this.”

Everyone stared at him but he didn't seem to care, as he addressed Daenerys directly:

“The Night King has your dragon. He's one of them now.”

Lexa was stunned to hear him spoke of Viserion. How did he know about her dead brother? Still, he continued:

“The Wall has fallen. The dead march south.”

Daenerys and Jon exchanged looks, then looked at Sansa, as if waiting for a confirmation. Sansa could only nod. The greetings were adjourned and a meeting was prepared.

* * *

Lexa followed everyone into the castle, and she was surprised to discover how warm it was inside. She took off her fur coat on her way to wherever the others were marching. The clank of metal armor and loud footsteps on the stone seemed to resonate all around her, so loudly she wondered whether people outside could hear it too.

They were led to a large stone room with a fireplace near the entrance, already burning with as many logs as could be placed inside without smothering the fire. Wooden benches had been placed all along the wall, probably to accommodate all the people marching with them. A long wooden table, with seven wooden chairs behind it, had been placed in front of the fireplace. A smaller table rested on the left side, with three seats illuminated by the frost-covered window behind it.

Sansa took her place at the middle of the table, and Jon to her left. Daenerys, instead of seating, stood by the fire and continued to warm herself up. The mysterious woman who'd yet to be introduced took a seat on the nearest bench to the entrance. Tyrion sat at the left-most seat of the head table. Lexa stopped for a moment, wondering where she should sit. Anya pushed her forward so she wouldn't be trembled by the incoming lords and ladies, most of which were much heavier than her. When she reached her mother's seat she saw Missandei and Varis seating on the small table to the left. Lexa was about to walk to the small table when she felt her mother's hand on her arm.

“Are you cold?” she asked, her eyes scanning her daughter's face for something.

Lexa shook her head and after passing a hand over her cold cheek, Daenerys smiled and indicated the chair at the end of the head table.

“Here. If you get cold come stand by the fire, alright?”

Lexa nodded and fell into the chair. It was far too big for her, and her feet dangled off quite a few inches from the ground. She placed her fur on the table in front of her, feeling the warmth of the building coupled with that of the fireplace behind her. Anya picked up the fur from the table and kept it with her as she came to stand in the corner, near the left-side table.

More and more lords and ladies came pouring into the room, each taking a seat on one of the benches. Lexa looked on with curiosity. All of these people were nobles, one way or another. She had read about the noble houses of Westeros before, in the book Tyrion gave her for her fifth birthday, but there was a difference between a list of names piled up on paper, and seeing so many people fill the room.

The clank of metal subsided, leaving a tense silence behind. All the long-bearded men and young women and metal clad knights were staring at the head table, most particularly at Daenerys and her daughter. Finally, the sound of metal rings clicking and shuffling echoed from the hall, and the maester came into the room, pushing Bran Stark along and placing him in the corner, beside the head table. He stood beside him. Silence fell once again into the room. After clearing her throat lightly, Sansa spoke:

“As soon as we heard about the Wall, I called all our banners to retreat to Winterfell. Lord Umber?”

A small, scrawny child, who looked barely older than Lexa herself, leaned forward from behind a rather large man.

“When can we expect your people to arrive?” Sansa asked with concern.

The lord-child stood up and came to stand in front of the head table with a dip of the head. He replied:

“We need more horses and wagons, if it pleases my lady.”

He straightened his back suddenly as his eyes looked with uncertainty at the rest of the table.

“And my lord,” he added, addressing Jon.

He then glanced at Daenerys, his mouth hanging open for a second, and added again:

“And my Queen. Sorry.”

Dany, surprised to be addressed at all, turned around from the fire and graced the child with a smile, trying to make him understand that he was forgiven for his blunter. She then proceeded to sit down in the empty chair between Jon and Lexa.

“You'll have as many as we can spare,” Sansa assured. “Hurry back to Last Hearth and bring your people here.”

The young boy's face turned serious once again and he nodded, before bowing again and walking at a hurried step out of the room. A tall man on the bench stood up to follow him out as well. As the rest of the room started chatting lightly, Jon turned to the maester:

“We need to send ravens to the Night's Watch as well. There's no sense in manning the castles anymore. We make our stand here.”

The maester bowed:

“At once your Grace.”

He exited the room quickly. As he did, one of the ladies spoke, and the room fell deadly silent.

“Your Grace?”

She stood up from the bench. She was a girl, just a bit older than Lord Umber.

“But you're not, are you? You left Winterfell a King and came back a... I'm not even sure what you are now.”

Everyone in the room seemed to agree with her. She continued:

“A Lord? Nothing at all?”

Jon tried to calm the room by answering:

“It's not important.”

His answer seemed to only offend the girl further:

“Not important? We named you King in the North.”

The words seemed to awaken the rest of the room, who started to shout and bang on the tables. Jon glanced over at Sansa, who seemed to agree with the young lady's words.

“You did, my lady. It was the honor of my life. I'll always be grateful for your faith.”

He paused, and stood up, so his voice would carry better into the room:

"But when I left Winterfell I told you we need allies or we will die. I have brought those allies home to fight alongside us. I had a choice: keep my crown or protect the north. I chose the north.”

The room seemed unsure about Jon's argument, and even he was unsure of himself. Tyrion, probably afraid to see the situation escalate, stood up from his seat and rounded the table.

"If anyone survives the war to come, we'll have Jon Snow to thank. He risked his life to show us the threat is real. Thanks to his courage, we have brought with us the greatest army the world has ever seen. We have brought two full-grown dragons."

Tyrion paused, swallowing.

“And soon, the Lannister army will ride north to join our cause.”

As he spoke, more and more voices of discontent rose in the audience. Tyrion tried to reassure them:

“I know, I know, our people haven't been friends in the past...”

Behind him, Sansa cleared her throat:

“We will need to restock on food as soon as possible. While I ensured our stores would last through winter, I didn't account for Dothraki, Unsullied and two full-grown dragons.”

Tyrion turned completely, but not to face Sansa. Instead, he talked to the mysterious woman.

“Lady Margaery, have you lost all contacts with Highgarden?”

The room's entire focus shifted to the mysterious woman, still wrapped in fur. Margaery stood up and came to stand in front of the head table, addressing Daenerys in particular.

“I apologize, Your Grace, I was hoping Lady Sansa would introduce us before it came to this. I am Lady Margaery of House Tyrell.”

While Daenerys seemed to be processing the information, Lexa stared at the woman's face. The left side of her face was untouched and beautiful. The right side was burned. An angry-red mark almost reached her eye and seemed to dance dangerously around it. It was smeared from her cheek to her temple, and all the way to her hair-line, where she'd tried to use the hair she had left to cover the burn. Lexa knew it wasn't polite to stare, yet she couldn't stop looking at it, and she wondered what had happened to her.

"Your grandmother had pledged herself to our cause," Daenerys started. "I am sorry for what the Lannisters did to her."

Margaery nodded.

"Thank you, Your Grace. It was already too late when I reached Winterfell, but I managed to contact my cousins. The fled Highgarden on my grandmother's order and are now hiding in Brightwater Keep."

“Can supplies be sent to the North?”

Margaery nodded once.

“A caravan is already on its way, Your Grace, though I fear it might not be enough for our army. I will send a raven to my cousin at once and rectify this mistake.”

“Please do, and tell your cousins that once we are done in the North, I will personally see to it that Highgarden is restored into your care, and the Lannisters pay for what they did.”

Margaery bowed.

“Thank you, Your Grace.”

* * *

The day was still young and Lexa had slept through some of the journey on horseback. After the meeting, she'd been escorted to her room by Anya to get some sleep. Her mother had given her a clear order, to not wander the castle alone. But since Anya had left without telling Lexa where she'd gone, and Lexa was stuck in her room all alone, she decided, if she only took the right-most hallway in every fork she came across, then she would eventually find her way back to her room.

And so, she carefully opened her bedroom door, fearful of any groan from the door that could betray her intentions. When she found the hallway deserted, she walked out, leaving her door open a few inches, and went right. She looked around every corner, looking for someone who could stop her and send her back to her room. None of the northerners she came across seemed to care that she was out of her room, and she hadn't seen any Unsullied or Dothraki inside. After a few minutes of wandering, she relaxed.

Every time she came to any sort of crossing, she took the right path. She crept along the wall, not just to be quiet anymore but to get as much warmth from the walls as she could. She still didn't understand how the walls could be so warm all the time. It was almost magical. If a dragon had been trapped under the castle, and its fire burned between the walls, it wouldn't have been as warm. However, the castle was also dark. Torches were lit all over the halls and it was barely enough to see. Frost had covered most if not all the windows, blocking half of the sunlight that could be coming through. Eventually, Lexa took another right and found herself in front of a door. She hesitated. This wasn't like Dragonstone where a large chunk of the castle was inhabited and the servants knew exactly who she was, and why she wouldn't get into trouble for using the kitchen to cut through all the corridors that separated the library and the dining hall.

Since she didn't want to get into trouble, she turned around and turned right again. There, she found a set of stairs leading up the largest tower of the castle. She climbed the stairs carefully. The old stones were polished to the point of being slippery. She wondered how old the castle was. Maybe they had a library with all the information she needed.

At the top of the stairs, she took another right. She almost immediately bumped into someone, who was exiting a room. Only her cat-like reflexes allowed her to stay on her feet.

“Oh, I'm sorry, are you hurt?” the person inquired quickly.

“No, I'm okay,” Lexa assured.

She looked up, and her eyes widened when she realized she had bumped into lady Margaery. The lady kneeled in front of her so she could be on the same level.

“Have you lost your room?”

Lexa shook her head quickly.

“No, I was looking for... the library.”

Margaery nodded.

"Well, you took the wrong turn. Or twenty wrong turns. Would you allow me to lead you to the library, Princess?"

Lexa nodded, and Margaery stood up and started walking down the stairs. Lexa looked back into the dark corridor but only saw a single wooden door, out of which Margaery had come. It must have been her bedroom, Lexa assumed. She hurried after the brunette and almost slipped on the last stair, but managed to steady herself.

“You're very agile, Princess,” Margaery commented.

Lexa offered her a smile.

"I've been training by the Commander of the Unsullied for months now, he says I'm small so I need to be agile to win. It's what Daario used to say too..."

Lexa wondered how Daario and Lincoln were doing. She hadn't heard from them since she'd left Meereen. Maybe she should send them a letter.

"Will you be fighting, when the dead come?"

Lexa nodded enthusiastically.

“I can fight with a sword, a dagger, a spear, and a bow. I hope I can fight and help us win.”

“That's very brave of you. I am surprised your mother allowed you to learn how to fight in the first place.”

Lexa frowned.

“Really?”

Margaery nodded.

“It is very uncommon. Before I had only ever heard of lady Brienne who knew how to fight. She even bested my brother once,” Margaery remembered, sadness tainting her voice. “Perhaps it is more common in Essos.”

Lexa shrugged.

“Not really. The Dothraki don't let their women fight, and they didn't allow women in the fighting pits of Meereen either.”

The more Lexa thought about it, the more she realized that before Anya and the Sand Snakes, she'd never met women fighters. Even her mother could barely hold a sword. She shrugged.

“I guess I'm special.”

Margaery laughed. Her laugh was light, it bounced off the walls easily and made Lexa want to smile.

“I guess you are. Ever since it was announced that your mother would be coming north I have heard all sorts of rumors about her, and you,” she added quickly.

“Like what?” Lexa wondered.

“Some say you were a dragon too, but your mother used magic to turn you into a child.”

Lexa laughed at the thought. She was not a dragon, she was a child. If she'd been a dragon child, she thought, at least she would have had wings too.

“I also heard you were a savage little girl who could barely speak, but I know now that it isn't true at all.”

Lexa frowned.

“Why would people say that?”

“Because you are part Dothraki, that much is known. But many people have never heard of the Dothraki, and none had ever seen them until now. They think the Dothraki are some sort of savages who only know how to fight.”

Lexa shrugged.

“They do know how to fight. But they're smart too. They know how to breed the best horses and how to survive in the desert. Dothraki is a complicated language too.”

“You know how to speak it?” Margaery asked, seemingly fascinated by everything Lexa said.

“I do. And High Valyrian too. Missandei taught me, she can speak nineteen languages.”

Margaery nodded in understanding. As they rounded a corner, another door further down the hall opened and Sansa walked out. Something seemed to illuminate in Margaery's eyes as she looked at the Lady of Winterfell, and a mischievous smile danced on her lips.

“My Lady!” she called out, catching Sansa's attention.

Sansa turned to look at them, her smile faltering slightly at the sight of Lexa beside Margaery. It shrunk from a broad, happy smile to a more polite one. Lexa assumed she and Margaery must have been good friends.

“I was just showing the Princess the way to the library. Would you like to come with us? Unless you're too busy, of course.”

Something flashed in Sansa's eyes at Margaery's mockingly respectful, borderline playful tone.

"I was heading to the library myself. I will come with you if you'll allow me."

The two women looked at Lexa, waiting for an answer. It suddenly struck Lexa that, in her role as princess, she was above them. The situation, of course, was made that much more ridiculous by the fact that Lexa was just tall enough to reach their waists.

“Of course. The more the merrier,” she summarized.

The three of them started walking through the stone corridors. Margaery had to step behind them, or else the corridors would have been too small for the three of them to pass.

“Why are you looking for the library, if you don't mind me asking?” Sansa asked.

Lexa shrugged.

“I already read all the books I brought with me and I'm bored.”

Sansa glanced at Margaery, probably very surprised to hear the rumored feral princess looking for books to distract herself.

“You like reading?” she asked, trying to sound unsurprised.

Lexa nodded.

"I didn't, before, but Lord Tyrion showed me that books are interesting and very important. He always says books are like whetstones to keep your mind sharp like a sword."

Lexa paused, wondering if she hadn't mixed up all the words together. She realized the meaning of Tyrion's saying had carried through and decided to leave it at that.

“Lord Tyrion does have a passion for books,” Sansa agreed.

“He told me about you, you know,” Lexa continued, looking at the tall redhead beside her.

“Did he now?” Sansa asked, slightly worried.

"He said you are very smart and very kind. I think he was right."

Sansa pursed her lips at the compliment.

“And your mother?” she wondered. “Has she said anything about me?”

Lexa shrugged.

“Jon said you two would probably get along, but I haven't seen her since the meeting before. I think she likes you though. I don't know why she wouldn't.”

Sansa and Margaery exchanged a look. Suddenly, a voice echoed down the hall.

“Lexa!”

Lexa winced and turned around. Anya was standing at the end of the corridor. She approached them quickly.

“I thought your mother told you to wait for me in your room?”

Lexa huffed.

“I was bored! Plus I'm not alone, I'm not gonna get lost!”

Anya looked at Sansa and Margaery.

"I'm sorry if she was bothering you, my ladies."

“Not at all,” Margaery affirmed. “I volunteered to take her to the library, so she wouldn't get lost, and lady Sansa joined us soon after.”

Anya nodded.

“Thank you, my ladies.”

“You should come with us,” Margaery suggested. “That way you will know the way to the library too. And perhaps you will tell us how a Martell found her way into the service of the Queen.”

Anya seemed very close to simply declining and running away, but she let duty take over.

“I'm not a Martell. I'm a Sand,” she assured.

“Well, the warden of the North is a Snow, so I suppose your lineage doesn't matter so much anymore.”

Margaery wrapped one arm around Anya's with a smile, pulling her along. Anya looked as though she would rather be anywhere but there. Lexa and Sansa followed without another word.

* * *

Lexa's trip to the library took longer than anticipated, as she pulled scroll after scroll from the many shelves, looking at each book under all angle before giving it to Anya. Anya could barely feel her arms when Lexa was finally done pillaging the Winterfell library. Margaery had left them almost as soon as they had found the library, and Sansa had left once she'd been done with whatever she had to do. They walked back to Lexa's bedroom, left the books there, and Lexa decided she needed some fresh air.

They walked out of the castle and through the main gate, into the battlefield being built. She looked with interest at the trenches being dug, the large wooden caltrops being built and the trebuchet being reassembled. Everyone was hard at work, and Lexa would have joined to help if she could stop her teeth from shattering. The air seemed to have become even colder since they had arrived, or maybe it was because the sun would soon start to dip out of view.

“Do you think mother would let me fire a trebuchet once?” Lexa asked.

She turned around and found Anya had drifted a few feet from her. She was looking up at the wall, where Jon was talking with Daenerys. Anya was staring at them, a slight frown on her face as if concentrating. Lexa came to stand beside her, to look at her mother. She was trying not to laugh at something Jon told her, and he was smiling happily. Lexa looked back at Anya. Her first instinct was to wonder whether her bodyguard had feelings for Jon. She imagined what people in love were supposed to look like, after all just a glance at her mother would give her the answer, but this wasn't it. There was hurt on her face, and something else, like painful memories coming back to the surface, like when Lexa thought about the fighting pits of Meereen. 

“Anya?”

Anya snapped back out of her thoughts and looked at Lexa.

“What?”

“How come you're not married?” Lexa suddenly asked.

“What?”

“My mom was younger than you when she got married. How come you're not married?”

“Why?”

Lexa shrugged.

“I was just wondering.”

“People like me don't get married,” Anya simply replied, and started walking away.

“What does that mean, people like you don't get married?”

“You'll understand when you're older. Now come on, you've shivered long enough, let's get you back inside before you catch something.”

Lexa glanced back at the top of the wall, where her mother and Jon had started walking back inside as well.

“Lexa?”

She tore her eyes away and ran back to her bodyguard as quickly as her trembling legs would allow.

* * *

Everyone was hard at work, covering the top of the walls with dragon glass spikes. Lexa was exploring the castle, Anya close behind. She'd found a map of the castle in the library, and with Sansa's permission, she'd taken it out and kept it safely in her hand.

"Did you know that there is a hot spring under the castle?" Lexa started, sure that Anya was close enough to hear her. "That's why the walls are so hot, the water is sent between the stones."

Anya hummed, barely listening. She was looking at the horizon, but all she could see were snow and trees.

"You think we can visit the godswood too? I heard the biggest weirwood tree in all of Westeros was there. I've never seen any weirwood tree before, but I read the Old Gods speak to people through them. Do you think they could speak to me too?"

Anya vaguely grunted as an answer. Lexa was so absorbed in her monologue that she barely noticed.

"We could also see the crypts! Lady Sansa said not to go too deep, however, because the crypt is huge and we could get lost easily."

They walked inside of a tower and passed through, avoiding the many workers there. Now that she couldn't look at the horizon anymore, Anya seemed to focus back on the words Lexa were saying.

“We're not going to visit the crypts, Lexa. It's very disrespectful. Unless you want to pay your respects to the dead, we are not going down there.”

Lexa pouted but didn't try to argue back. The concept of the crypt itself intrigued Lexa greatly. The Dothraki burned their dead, so they could ascend to the Night Lands. There was nothing left of her father in this land, beside Drogon being named after him. But down in the crypt laid an incalculable number of dead bodies who used to live in this castle. Perhaps, Lexa thought, she ought to return to the library and find a book about the Old Gods, and where their people landed after death.

They emerged out of the tower and back onto the wall. Lexa stopped between two parapets to look beyond the castle. The trench was slowly being filled with large wooden spikes. The Unsullied were hard at work, carrying the logs from a stack to the trench and back again. Most of the siege weapons were ready to be used, and boulders were being stacked beside them. The Dothraki were preparing their horses too, and galloping around camp, trying to warm them up. Lexa hoped Bleeding Star was being well taken care of in the castle stables, and she hoped she would have the opportunity to take him out for a ride soon.

There was a roar above her, one she distinctively knew as belonging to her brothers. She assumed they were going to hunt further south since there wasn't much for them here. She looked up. The dragons were flying over the castle quickly. She sighed, still unaccustomed to seeing only two of them. Drogon dived before pushing himself up, keeping a safe distance with the castle. He flew around one of the towers and Lexa saw her mother on Drogon's back, her platinum hair seemingly undisturbed by the wind. Rhaegal followed close behind. Lexa was almost tempted to call him to her, but then she thought a dragon landing on a very very old wall would not help strengthen their defenses.

Just as Rhaegal passed along the wall, Lexa noticed that there was someone on his back. Her eyes grew wide. None other than Jon Snow was seating on Rhaegal's back, and following Daenerys as best as he could. Lexa leaned over the wall to try and see them as they disappeared in the distance, toward the snowy wilderness. She looked back at Anya who looked just as surprised as her.

“Did you see that!” she shouted.

“I did...” was all Anya could reply.

Lexa huffed and continued to walk toward the next tower, at a faster pace than before.

“It's not fair! Why does he get to ride Rhaegal and I don't!”

“I don't know,” Anya simply replied.

“I'm big enough now! And Rhaegal won't throw me off! If she's really scared I'll fall, maybe I can ask someone to make me a saddle! Like Aegon!”

Anya frowned.

“What?”

"Yeah, Aegon the Conquerer. All the Targaryens who had dragons had huge saddles for them," Lexa explained.

Anya blinked, and finally managed to pull herself out of her confusion.

“Oh, yeah, right.”

Lexa huffed again and Anya tried to follow her as best as she could.

* * *

Lexa walked back to the library, two old books tugged under her arm. She should be asleep by now, but she'd wanted to finish her book about Bran the Builder, and since she'd been finished she thought bringing the books back would be a good idea.

The library was quiet, and the wooden floor groaned under her feet. She went straight to the shelves where she thought she remembered taking the books. However, she was too small, and even jumping didn't give her enough hight to place the book back. She thought climbing the shelf for a moment, but she realized it was a terrible idea, and decided to take a chair instead. 

“Can I help you?”

She jumped back with a gasp of fear at the soft, friendly voice on her left. A man was standing at the end of the shelf. His smile had disappeared for an embarrassed expression.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you.”

Lexa took in a deep breath.

“I'm not scared. I just need help to place those books back.”

The man approached, a smile reappearing on his lips. He reminded her of a sheep, the ones with too much wool that her brothers didn't like because wool wasn't meat.

“May I?” he asked, pointing to the books in her hands.

“Of course.”

She handed him the books and he looked at the book's title. He easily placed them in the right spots with a smile.

“Here you go. Did you need anything else?” he asked politely.

Lexa frowned.

“Are you the one in charge of the library?” she asked.

She'd never seen him here in the library before, or anywhere else in the castle for that matter. He smiled back at her sheepishly.

“Hm... No. But I like to come here often. It's a good place to think.”

Lexa nodded.

“Is it because you like books? I like books too, they teach me so many things!”

The man smiled down at her.

“I do like books. There aren't a lot here but it's already better than Castle Black.”

Lexa frowned thoughtfully. She knew Castle Black was one of the castles along the wall, which meant this man had probably traveled there. He wore black so maybe he even was a brother of the night's watch. However, he also seemed like a knowledgeable man.

“In your opinion,” she started, “which city of Westeros has the most books?”

The man smiled.

"Oh, that's easy. The Citadel is where they form the maesters, they have the biggest library in all of Westeros."

Lexa nodded.

"In that case, I will ask mother to take me there once the war is over."

The man seemed torn by Lexa's wish.

“The problem is they don't let women or children inside...”

Lexa crossed her arms.

"Well, they will let me in or else my brothers will burn them to a crisp."

The man frowned.

“Your brothers?” he repeated with uncertainty.

The door groaned, signaling that someone was walking in. Lexa picked from behind the shelf and saw her mother and Jorah walking in. She tried hiding again, but Daenerys had been quick to spot her.

“Lexa, what are you doing here? You should be in bed.”

Lexa sighed and walked from behind the shelves and to her mother.

“I just wanted to return the books I'd read but I was too small so this nice man helped me put them back.”

The man had tentatively walked from behind the shelf and came to stand in front of them. Daenerys looked over at Jorah who nodded.

“So you're the man,” Daenerys started.

Lexa looked back at the man in question, wondering why he was so special. He seemed confused at her mother's words.

“Hm... I'm... Which man am I, Your Grace?”

“The one who saved Ser Jorah when no one else could,” she replied with a smile.

Lexa looked back at the man. She'd heard in passing that Jorah's long absence had been caused by an illness, though she still didn't know what kind, and she gasped lightly when she heard that this one was the one who'd saved Jorah.

“They could, they just wouldn't.”

“I'll have to make some changes in the Citadel when I take the throne,” Daenerys said as she took a few steps closer to the man.

"We were just talking about the Citadel," Lexa said, catching her mother's attention. "He said they have the most books in Westeros but they don't let women or children in the library. You need to change that."

Dany smiled at her daughter and nodded, before looking back at the man.

“In any case, a great service merits a great reward.”

The man seemed embarrassed.

“Oh, it's my honor to serve you, Your Grace.”

“There must be something I could give you,” Daenerys insisted.

The man seemed hesitant, but finally, he replied:

“If it's not too much trouble, I could use a pardon.”

Daenerys frowned lightly.

“For what crime?”

Still, the man seemed hesitant to answer:

“Hm... I borrowed a few books from the Citadel...”

Daenerys looked over at Jorah, the two of them smiling at the man's strange but endearing request.

“And also a sword,” he added.

Daenerys looked back at the man, still frowned.

“From the Citadel?”

He shook his head lightly.

“From my family. It's been in House Tarly for generations. It would've been mine anyway, eventually, but my father had other ideas...”

Daenerys' smile had dropped, making Lexa frown. She knew of House Tarly, from the Reach, she'd read about them in her book on Westerosi houses. An archer on a green field.

“Not Randyll Tarly?” Daenerys asked hesitantly.

The man seemed confused upon hearing the name of his father.

“You know him?”

Daenerys nodded slowly.

“He betrayed his oath to House Tyrell and sided with the Lannisters. I offered to let him retain his lands and titles if he bent the knee. He refused. He was sent to defend the wall instead.”

The man nodded in understanding. His smile was gone, yet he seemed to want to laugh.

"You sentenced my father to take the black?" he asked as if he couldn't believe it.

“He had the choice,” Daenerys started, but the man stopped her with a light shake of the head.

“I suppose the sayings are true. The gods do have a sense of poetic justice. Well, at least I'll be allowed home again, now that my brother's the lord.”

Daenerys nodded.

“He and his men were sent back to Horn Hill and are awaiting my command to march on Kingslanding.”

The man nodded, a small smile returning to his lips.

“Thank you, Your Grace. For telling me.”

“Of course.”

Daenerys turned around to look at Lexa.

“Ser Jorah, can you take Lexa back to her room and make sure she sleeps this time, instead of reading.”

“Of course, Your Grace.”

Lexa huffed but took Jorah's hand nonetheless as he led her out of the room. Behind her, she could hear the man telling her mother:

“Don't be too hard on her for liking books.”

Daenerys assured him:

“I never could."


	2. A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lexa attends a trial, asks too many people for a dual, go visit her brothers and listens to a lullaby.

Lexa had barely taken her breakfast when the news broke out around the castle. Jaime Lannister had arrived at Winterfell, alone, without a single soldier from the promised army behind him. All the lords and all the ladies in the castle went running to the great hall, but they were not permitted entry. That was were Lexa found herself, seating by Jon Snow, at the end of the head table, looking down on a man rugged by travel and at a clear disadvantage.

Two smaller tables had been placed on either side. On the left, Daenerys' entourage. On the right, Jon and Sansa's. Unsullied soldiers were standing on either side of the walls, while northerners blocked the exit at the back of the room.

Daenerys was the first to speak, breaking the tense silence:

“When I was a child, my brother would tell me a bedtime story, about the man who murdered our father. Who stabbed him in the back and cut his throat. Who sat down on the Iron Throne and watched, as his blood poured onto the floor.”

Jaime's eyes fell slightly, as he stopped looking ahead of him and stared at the ground instead. Lexa listened to her mother's words carefully. She understood the words and knew that she should be angry at the man for killing her grandfather. She'd vaguely heard of Aerys II from Ser Barristan, but she knew nothing of him in particular. She was angry, but only on principle, because her mother was furious, and Sansa looked just as seething. Even Anya, who stood against the wall nearest to her, between two Unsullied, looked enraged.

“He told me other stories as well,” Daenerys continued. “About all the things we would do to that man once we took the Seven Kingdoms and had him in our grasp.”

Loud footsteps echoed into the room and all the eyes present snapped toward the exit of the hallway. Margaery had walked in suddenly, then paused by the entrance, her eyes on Jaime. His eyes grew wide when he saw her, and she clenched her jaw and sat quickly beside Sansa, her eyes glaring a hole in Jaime's soul.

Once the attention had turned back to Jaime, Daenerys added:

“Your sister pledged to send her army north.”

Jaime agreed:

“She did.”

“I don't see an army. I see one man, with one hand. It appears your sister lied to me.”

Tyrion, who'd been standing by the small table on the left, had been slowly paling as time went on. He looked at Jaime, probably hoping for some good news.

“She lied to me as well. She never had any intentions of sending her army north.”

Whispers echoed in the room while Daenerys glared at Tyrion. Lexa could see him trying to look away. She thought if he could disappear into the nearest wall, he would have.

"She has Euron Greyjoy's fleet and twenty thousand fresh troops. The Golden Company from Essos bought and paid for. Even if we defeat the dead, she'll have more than enough to destroy the survivors.”

Daenerys frowned.

“We?”

Jaime tried to defend himself:

“I promised to fight for the living. I intend to keep that promise.”

Tyrion stepped closer to his Queen, and Lexa could no longer see his face, though she could hear the plea in his voice:

“Your Grace, I know my brother...”

“Like you knew your sister?” Daenerys cut him off.

Still, Tyrion tried to save his brother from a quick and painful execution:

“He came here alone, knowing full well how he'd be received. Why would he do that if he weren't telling the truth?”

"Perhaps he trusts his little brother to defend him, right up to the moment he slits my throat."

Lexa paled at the thought. Had Jaime come here to assassinate her mother? She wouldn't let him. While Lexa was trying to devise a plan, intending to protect her mother with her life, Sansa intervened:

“You're right. We can't trust him. He attacked my father in the streets. He tried to destroy my house and my family, same as he did yours.”

Sansa probably had more to say, but Jaime cut her off:

“Do you want me to apologize? I won't. We were at war. Everything I did, I did for my house and my family, and I'd do it all again.”

“The things we do for love.”

Bran's voice had cut through the silence with gravitas. Jaime looked at him suddenly, eyes wide, as if visibly panicked. Lexa tried to get a good look at Bran but she was on the opposite side of the room from him, and even if she stood on her knees on the chair, she wasn't tall enough.

Daenerys' voice forced Jaime to look at her:

“So why have you abandoned your house and family now?”

Jaime tried to look behind him without turning around.

“Because this goes beyond loyalty.”

He finally gave up and turned his head completely, to look at Brienne, who was seated at the right table.

“This is about survival.”

After a few seconds, Brienne stood up and came to stand beside Jaime, just in front of him enough that she seemed to be shielding him. She was comically taller than him, the effect further accentuated by how strong and proud she looked, while he seemed barely capable of holding up his head.

“You don't know me well, Your Grace. But I know Ser Jaime. He is a man of honor. I was his captor once, but when we were both taken prisoner and the men holding us tried to force themselves on me, Ser Jaime defended me. And lost a hand because of it.”

Brienne had looked into Daenerys' eyes the entire time, her voice never faulting once. She then looked at Sansa.

“Without him, my lady, you would not be alive. He armed me, armored me, and sent me to find you and bring you home because he'd sworn an oath to your mother.”

Sansa pursed her lips lightly, as if torn.

“You vouch for him?”

“I do.”

“You would fight beside him?”

“I would.”

Sansa was silent for a moment as if debating the situation. Everyone waited expectedly for her answer. Lexa was still seating on her knees, trying to give herself a better vantage point. Thankfully, both Jon and Daenerys were small enough that she could see above them easily.

“I trust you with my life,” Sansa finally concluded. “If you trust him with yours, we should let him stay.”

Everyone seemed shocked by her answer. As Lexa looked at Jaime, she realized he was shocked too.

“What does the Warden of the North say about it?” Daenerys asked, her voice sour.

Lexa sat correctly in her chair once more and looked at Jon beside her.

“We need every man we can get,” Jon replied after a moment of silence.

There was another long pause, during which every eye fell on the Queen.

“Very well.”

With a nod of the head, she sent Grey Worm forward. He picked up Jaime's sword and handed it to him reluctantly. Even as Jaime put his hand on it and pulled it to him forcefully, Grey Worm wouldn't let go. After a few seconds, during which both men stared at each other, Grey Worm let go and walked back to his place.

“Thank you, Your Grace.”

Almost as soon as Jaime had spoken, Daenerys stood up, allowing everyone else to follow. Margaery was quick to stand and walk away, her chair almost tumbling in the process. After a few seconds of hesitation, Sansa followed, giving one last apologetic look toward Jon and Daenerys, as if to excuse both hers and Margaery's quick disappearance. Jon leaned toward his Queen and whispered something in her ear, so lightly that Lexa couldn't hear a word of it. Daenerys nodded and he disappeared through the hallway as well, probably back to work.

* * *

When Daenerys started to walk toward the other exit at the back of the room, all of her advisers followed her. Lexa decided to follow behind, sure that Anya would be right behind her as well.

She was a few steps behind the group, and it was possible her mother didn't even know she was following them at all, as she could hear her shout at Tyrion, her loud voice bouncing on the warm stones of the hallway:

“Either you knew Cercei was lying and let me believe otherwise, or you didn't know at all! Which makes you either a traitor or a fool!”

“I was a fool,” Tyrion assured her quickly.

“Not for the first time.”

After a moment of pause, during which Lexa no longer heard footsteps, her mother continued:

“Cercei still sits on the throne. If you can't help me take it back, I'll find another Hand who can.”

Lexa stopped walking, just around the corner from the small group of advisers. She heard the clacking of her mother's boots walking away, soon followed by Tyrion, who sadly said:

“I suspect one of you will be wearing this before it's all over.”

Lexa sighed and decided to walk back the way she'd come from. Whoever served as Hand of the Queen wasn't her business, it was her mother's, but she would be saddened to see Tyrion stripped of the title. What would he do then? Would he even stay? He would have no reason to, and she liked Tyrion.

Upset by the situation, Lexa walked through the corridors without realizing that she'd wandered off alone, and was completely lost. Anya had not followed her, as she had assumed. She didn't have the old map on her, and she definitely hadn't memorized it yet. All the corridors looked the same either, with all the same wooden doors, and stone walls, and frost-covered window, through which the white sunlight passed through.

After taking a few turns here and there, hoping to find a room she could recognize, she took another turn and found herself faced with a long corridor. However, she wasn't alone anymore. Two women were standing in the middle of the hallway, holding each other tightly. Even from a distance, Lexa very easily recognized them. It was Sansa and Margaery.

Lexa hid behind the corner, afraid of being scolded for having wandered off on her own. There was no one else in the hallways, and the women's voice echoed down the hall with clarity.

"I'm sorry," Sansa said as if she'd been repeating it.

“No, I understand...” Margaery replied, her voice constricted by sadness.

Lexa wondered if she'd been crying.

“Duty comes first,” Margaery continued.

“I wish it didn't have to,” Sansa told her.

Margaery sighed longly.

“Only for the lucky ones...” Margaery said.

Lexa was almost tempted to walk away and leave the two be, but she was curious, wondering what the two were talking about. Lexa thought she heard the sound of kissing, but maybe her ears were deceiving her.

“Lord Royce will be waiting for me,” Sansa said after a few moments of silence. “Will you be okay?”

“Don't worry about me, sweet girl. Go rule over your castle. I'll find a warm fire to keep me company.”

Sansa's footsteps seemed hesitant had first, then more steady as they became more distant. Lexa turned around and went on her way.

“Princess?”

She turned around and found Margaery standing in the corridor behind her. Her eyes and nose were red and puffy, and she was still trying to brush the tears away.

“I'm lost,” Lexa simply replied, as if trying to justify herself.

Margaery smiled.

"It seems you are quite inclined to lose yourself in here. Come, I'll show you back to your room."

As Margaery started beside her, Lexa asked with concern:

“Are you okay, Lady Margaery?”

Margaery gave her another smile:

“Thank you for your concern, Princess, but I'll be alright.”

Though Lexa didn't believe a word she said, she nodded and let the brunette lead her through the castle.

* * *

Anya found Lexa in her bedroom, and when Lexa suggested they train, Anya agreed. The courtyard was full of people working and preparing for war, so Anya found them a small spot hidden away to practice archery. It was among bags of floors and barrels of ale, but it would have to do. An empty barrel had been adorned with a crude target, and it had already served, as arrow marks had been left in its wood.

“Remember,” Anya started as Lexa took her place, some twenty feet from the target. “Feet apart, lower your shoulders, and breathe.”

Lexa placed the first arrow on the rope and pulled it back, taking deep breathes. Her many layers of clothes didn't help, and she couldn't quite move with the same extent she was used to. The arrow hit just a few inches from the center. Lexa huffed.

“I can't shoot with this jacket,” she said, trying to fight her clothes.

Without so much as a word, Anya picked up her own bow and an arrow, and fired, taking barely a second to aim. She hit the target right in the center.

“It's not the jacket, it's you. So stop whining and concentrate.”

Lexa glared at her bodyguard, and just to prove her wrong, she tried to do exactly like her. Without taking the proper time to aim, her arrow flew straight into a bag of flour, piercing it. Anya rolled her eyes.

“You've got eyes, so use them,” she instructed.

Lexa huffed again and took another arrow. She pulled back the rope, taking a long, deep breath. An arrow zipped past her and hit the target in its center, partially cutting through Anya's. Lexa was so surprise, she almost let go of her own. She turned around, only to find a young woman standing behind her. Anya looked just as stunned as Lexa, if not a little more infuriated by the newcomer, who could have very easily injured or killed Lexa had her shot been just a bit more to the right.

“You should listen to your instructor, you know,” the young woman said.

Lexa knew she'd seen her before, though it took her a moment to realize where. She was the last Stark sibling, the one always wandering around, so much so that they hadn't properly met until now.

“Do you have a death wish or something?” Anya shouted at her, either because she didn't know she was addressing one of the ladies of the house, or she didn't care. “Shooting behind the Princess like that?”

The young woman chuckled lightly.

“You have nothing to worry about. It's not her time yet.”

The young woman placed another arrow on her bow but didn't raise her arm.

“Go on, Princess. Take your shot.”

Still, Lexa continued to stare at her.

“You're Arya Stark, aren't you?” she asked.

“Does it matter?”

“I heard you were very good with a sword. Can we dual?”

Anya sighed. The little Princess' tendency to ask anyone and everyone with a sword if they could dual would get her into trouble one day. Arya glanced at Lexa's bodyguard, then looked back at the Princess.

“How about this: if you can put three arrows dead center in the target, we'll dual.”

Lexa nodded with a confident smile. She took her position once again and aimed. The first arrow flew straight into the center. With a smirk, Lexa picked up another arrow and aimed. The second hit the center right next to the first. Lexa looked back at Arya, who was staring at her. She picked up her last arrow, sure of her victory. She aimed, let out a long, drawn-out breath, then let go of the rope. The arrow landed in the target, but not in the center, just at the edge of it.

“I see,” Arya said behind her. “You'll be a great archer one day, but you still need practice.”

She turned to Anya.

“I'll be back in half an hour. I assume she'll be done by then.”

She picked up her quiver and bow and walked away. Both Lexa and Anya watched her go.

“She better be as good as everyone says she is,” Anya mumbled to herself.

“Do you think she'll let me dual with her tomorrow?” Lexa asked. “Or maybe you two could have a dual! I bet that would be interesting!”

Anya rolled her eyes.

“You'll get to talk when you can land three arrows in the center. Now go on, if I can still see the bullseye you're doing it wrong!”

Lexa huffed but picked up another arrow nonetheless.

* * *

Anya had disappeared before lunch again, and so Lexa had gone to explore the castle on her own. The memories of dark, identical hallways were still fresh in her mind, and so she decided to remain in the courtyard. She watched how the blacksmith and carpenters hacked pieces of wood to turn them into large caltrops, then added dragonglass spikes to them. Lexa had yet to receive a dragonglass weapon to defend herself, and she wondered whether her mother would let her have one. She already had two daggers and a sword, but both would be completely ineffective against the dead. She still had that small dragonglass splinter she'd taken from the mine, and that was it.

With nothing else to do, she decided to go to the forge, and take a dagger ahead of everyone else, so she would be sure to have one. She set out toward the forge, which had been hidden in a corner of the castle.

Just as she passed under an arch, leading from one side of the courtyard to the other, she saw Jaime Lannister walking back inside the castle. Lexa thought she should have ignored him and continue on her way. Instead, she stopped right in front of him and looked him up and down. Brienne had said he had lost a hand, but he was wearing two gloves, which made it difficult to know which was his false hand. Though since one didn't move at all while the other was resting on a nearby caltrop while Unsullied brought more wood outside, Lexa knew exactly which one it was.

“Is it true, what Tyrion said?”

Jaime looked down at her with surprise and confusion, probably wondering why the Dragon Princess was bothering to talk to him at all.

“What?”

"That you used to be one of the greatest fighters in all of Westeros?" Lexa explained.

Jaime seemed to soften slightly.

“According to some.”

“But were you?”

He sighed, seemingly realizing that the princess wouldn't take anything but a black or white response from him.

“I used to be incredible,” he finally replied.

“I'm a good fighter too,” Lexa replied. “Can we dual?”

Jaime frowned.

“I don't think your mother or anyone for that matter would let me wield a sword anywhere near you.”

He started walking away but Lexa followed.

“But what if I ask her? We could make it an official event, and everyone would watch.”

“I heard your mother was strong-headed and smart. If you can convince her of something so stupid, then I doubt she'll remain a Queen for very long.”

Lexa frowned, trying to understand what he meant. Tyrion came from the other side of the courtyard toward his brother.

“I hope you aren't bothering Ser Jaime?” he asked as soon as he saw Lexa.

“I'm not! I was just asking him questions!”

“Well, if you're done interrogating him, I would like a word with my brother.”

Lexa huffed and rolled her eyes, but walked away nonetheless. She had somewhere else to be anyway.

* * *

The forge was very hot compared to everywhere else in the castle, and most of the people who worked there had discarded their furs very soon after entering. Lexa wandered through the many worktables, where thousands of arrowheads were being mounted on the wooden body of the arrows, and spear-blades for the Unsullied were still cooling off beside rows upon rows of arahk for the Dothraki. Lexa wondered if she could take one, but then that would leave one of her mother's riders defenseless, and she couldn't do that.

Instead, she found a pile of daggers placed on another table. She picked one up quickly, one which looked strong, and started walking away. She was halfway out the door when someone noticed her.

“Hey! You can't take that!”

She sprinted out the door, sure that someone was going to run after her. She passed by rows of caltrops and wondered for a moment if she could lose her pursuer by running through them, but she was sure the spikes would hurt her.

She took a sharp turn toward the castle, and bumped into someone, before tumbling back. Jorah was standing in front of her, just as surprised as her.

“Are you alright, Princess?” he asked as he helped her up.

Lexa nodded quickly, in a hurry to start running again, when her pursuer caught up with her. It was a young man with short brown hair and a squared jaw, looking exhausted from his brief sprint.

“Hey! Give me back that dagger you stole!” he demanded.

Lexa looked back at Jorah, who had finally noticed the dragonglass dagger in her hand.

“Princess, please hand the dagger back.”

Lexa looked hesitantly at the weapon in her hand.

“But what if there aren't any left for me? How will I fight then?” she asked worriedly.

While Jorah smiled with compassion, the blacksmith kneeled in front of her, one hand held out:

"I'll make sure one dagger is made especially for you, Princess. I'll even do it myself if you want. I'll make sure you're ready to fight."

Lexa stared at the man's open hand. She lightly placed the dagger back in it.

“Thank you, Princess.”

He stood up and after one last nod toward Jorah, he returned to the forge. Jorah placed a hand on Lexa's shoulder and started stirring her toward the castle:

“Come along now, Princess. Your mother asked me to find you and bring you to the great hall for lunch.”

Lexa glanced one last time in the direction of the forge when something caught her eye. Jon Snow was standing at the top of the castle wall, talking with someone, probably about reinforcing their defenses. Anya was standing in the shadow of the guard tower, just far enough as not to be seen, but close enough that she could probably hear him.

“Aren't you hungry, Princess?” Jorah asked when he noticed Lexa hadn't moved.

She shook her head, snapping herself out of thoughts, and followed Jorah toward the castle.

“I'm only hungry if they aren't serving soup!” she declared, making the old knight laugh.

* * *

Lexa, after much asking, managed to get her brother's location out of her mother. She snagged Anya from where she was probably brooding or some other important thing, and together they started climbing up the hill, east of the castle, where her brothers had nested. On the way there, Lexa said:

“I saw you spying on Jon Snow this morning. Why are you spying on him? Did my mother ask you to spy on him?”

Anya chuckled.

“Why would she? She's with him almost all the time, she really doesn't need someone to spy on Jon Snow.”

“Then why were you spying on him?”

“I wasn't, alright. I just wanted to talk to him, and he was busy so I couldn't.”

“What did you wanted to talk about?” Lexa insisted.

“Nothing that concerns you.”

Anya walked faster, hoping that Lexa would drop her questioning. They made it up the hill in record time, and found Drogon and Rhaegal, in front of arguably the only place in the north devoid of any snow. The ground was scorched, and the two dragons were fighting over a pile of bones. Upon hearing intruders approaching, they looked up from their meal. Lexa smiled and ran up to her brothers. Anya stopped a few feet from them, keeping a good distance with the creatures. Lexa had no fear when she launched herself at Rhaegal and hugged him fiercely. He let her do, with a low rumble in his throat.

Drogon nudged Lexa's back as if asking for a hug of his own. Lexa let go of Rhaegal and hugged Drogon as well.

“Mother said you haven't been eating enough,” she started. “You need to eat more. When the dead come you'll need to be stronger than them.”

The dragons screeched and stretched their wings as if answering.

“I know, I don't like the cold too,” Lexa continued. “But as soon as this is over, we'll be gone.”

Anya watched her interact with the dragons carefully. She'd never seen Lexa hug and pet her brothers before, and she was frightened by Lexa's complete lack of fear. She was even more surprised by the dragon's tenderness with their sister. She wondered if they were that soft and careful with their mother.

Anya was suddenly pulled out of her thoughts when Rhaegal moved to stand closer to her. Lexa watched him do with a laugh, as Anya tried to step back.

“He wants you to pet him,” she explained.

Still, Anya continued to take a few steps back.

“I really don't want to.”

“But he does. If you keep moving back he'll think it's a game and he might push you back. You have to pet him!”

Anya pursed her lips and stopped moving. Still, Rhaegal continued to approach her. She looked back at the green dragon. His massive amber eyes were staring back at her with intensity. His mouth was open just enough that she could see the hint of sharp fangs. She tentatively held out her hand and very lightly dared to touch the dragon's muzzle. Lexa watched her do with a smile. Anya was very tentative, at first, but eventually, she moved her hand on her brother's scales, less fearfully then before. After what felt like an eternity, she pulled her hand back, and Rhaegal moved away from her.

“See,” Lexa said, as she stopped petting Drogon and went to Rhaegal. “Dragons aren't scary.”

“They very much are,” Anya countered. “I fell in a snake pit once and that wasn't as scary as this was.”

Lexa rolled her eyes and started petting Rhaegal. Suddenly, both her brothers looked up toward the edge of the hill. Drogon roared and flew off at the first chance given. Rhaegal remained standing beside his sister, though he seemed to be trying to hide her behind his wing. Lexa and Anya watched in surprise, as Arya Stark climbed up the hill to meet them.

“It's alright,” Lexa assured. “She's a friend.”

She walked past Rhaegal who kept his eyes on Arya. Arya had stopped at a reasonable distance as well, keeping an eye on the dragon.

"I didn't mean to intrude," she said, "but I thought it better to go see the dragons from up-close if their sister was with them."

Lexa came to stand in front of Arya.

“They really don't like you,” she noted, looking back at Rhaegal who was still glaring at the small group of humans. “It's alright, Rhaegal! Just go hunt or something!”

Rhaegal turned to the side and flew off. Arya watched him do with a certain wonder in her eyes.

“I'm sorry. He's not usually so bad with strangers,” Lexa said.

“It's alright,” Arya assured. “Anyway, I also came up here to tell you that your mother was waiting for you at the last council before the sun comes down.”

Both Lexa and Anya frowned. Anya asked:

“Last council?”

Arya nodded.

“We just received news that the dead would be here before the dawn.”

Lexa felt a chill roll down her spine but kept it to herself.

* * *

Lexa and Anya followed Arya to a corner of the library. On a large square table, a map of Winterfell and the fields surrounding it had been laid out. Painted wooden pieces served as the armies. There were little to no dark blue pieces and far too many light blue ones for Lexa to count. Almost everyone was already there. Jon, Sansa, Margaery, Daenerys, Sam, Theon, Brienne, Ser Davos, Grey Worm, Varys, Jorah, and a few lords and ladies Lexa didn't know by name. Even Bran was seating in his chair by the fire. Lexa came to stand by her mother, and Anya took place around the map with everyone else.

Once Tyrion and Jaime walked in and joined them at the table, the final meeting could start. Lexa could feel the tension in the room as Jon started explaining once again:

“They're coming. We have dragon glass and Valyrian steel. But there are too many of them, far too many. Our enemy doesn't tire, doesn't stop, doesn't sleep. We can't beat them in a straight battle.”

While everyone let his words sink in, Lexa took a step closer to her mother. Ser Jaime asked:

“So, what can we do?”

Jon answered:

“The Night King made them all. They follow his command. If he falls... getting to him might be our best chance.”

“If that's true, he'll never expose himself.”

“Yes, he will.”

Bran calm voice pierced through the tense silence. From her position, Lexa couldn't quite see him, but she leaned forward over the table and finally managed to.

“He'll come for me. He's tried before, many times, with many Three-Eyed Ravens.”

Sam asked with confusion:

“Why? What does he want?”

“An endless night. He wants to erase this world, and I am its memory.”

After a moment of silence, Sam said:

“That's what death is, isn't it? Forgetting. Being forgotten. If we forget where we've been and what we've done, we're not men anymore. Just animals. Your memories don't come from books. Your stories aren't just stories. If I wanted to erase the world of men, I'd start with you.”

There was a groan coming from the opposite side of the table, where an old, bald man dressed in black started shouting at Sam:

"Stop with your nonsense, boy! This is a war meeting!"

Lexa instantly started glaring at the man, and she seemed she wasn't the only one, as Daenerys shot the man down immediately:

“Randyll Tarly, you were invited to join this meeting because of your military expertise. If you have nothing important to say, I suggest you leave now.”

The man stopped glaring at Sam and lowered his gaze. Lexa understood he was Sam's banished father, whom her mother had forced to take the black. She instantly hated the man.

Once the silence had settled back, Tyrion looked at Bran:

“How will the Night King find you?”

"His mark is on me," Bran replied, raising his sleeve just enough to show four reddish lines on his skin. They looked like healing burns, like the ones on Margaery's face.

“He always knows where I am.”

“We'll put you in the crypt, where it's safest,” Jon assured him.

“No. We need to lure him into the open before his army destroys us all. I'll wait for him in the Godswood.”

Sansa shook her head.

“You want us to use you as bait?”

Arya seemed to dislike the idea as much as her older sister:

“We're not leaving you alone out there.”

“He won't be. I'll stay with him, with the Ironborn.”

Everyone turned to look at Theon, who was only looking at Bran.

“I took this castle from you. Let me defend you now.”

Davos looked down at the map before he said with a sigh:

“We'll hold off the rest of them for as long as we can.”

Lexa stared down at the map, wondering where she would be. Would her mother allow her to stand with the Unsullied and fight, or with Anya on the ramparts and rain down arrows on their enemies? Either way, she was going to fight.

“When the time comes, Ser Davos and I will be on the walls, to give you the signal to light the trench.”

Her mother looked down at Tyrion.

“Ser Davos is perfectly capable of waving a torch on his own. You'll be in the crypt, with Lexa.”

Lexa's mouth opened in shock. Her mother couldn't well expect her to sit and wait for people to fight for her? Before she could protest, Tyrion was already arguing back:

“Your Grace, I have fought before, I can do it again, alongside the men and women risking their lives.”

“There are thousands of them and only one of you. You can't fight as well as they can, but you can think better than any of them. You're here because of your mind. If we survive, I'll need it. And if I don't, then Lexa will need your help over everyone else's.”

Lexa frowned. It suddenly occurred to her that fighting the dead meant a lot of the living would die too. She looked over at the people in the room and wondered which one would make it out alive, and which wouldn't. It made her entire body shake, and her eye prickle with tears. However, she pushed down the tears and looked at her mother:

“I want to fight too! I can fight better than you!”

Daenerys looked down at her daughter with gentle eyes, far different from her regal expression when she'd address everyone else.

“And no one is questioning that, but if anything goes wrong, we'll need someone to protect the women and children in the crypt.”

Lexa nodded. Her mother wasn't hiding her from the fight, she was giving her an important mission. This already made her position in the crypt far more acceptable.

Once the matter of Lexa and Tyrion was sorted, Davos explained:

“The dragons should give us an edge in the field.”

Jon seemed opposed to the idea:

“If they're in the field, they're not protecting Bran. We need to be near him. Not too near, or the Night King won't come, but close enough to pursue him when he does.”

Arya turned back to look at Bran.

“Dragonfire will stop him?”

“I don't know. No one's ever tried.”

After a long, tense pause, one of the men Lexa had taken for a lord, with fiery red hand and completely wrapped in fur, said:

“We're all going to die.”

After looking over toward someone, though Lexa was too small to see who, he added:

“But at least we die together.”

There was another pause, then Jon said:

“Let's get some rest.”

Everyone started walking away from the table, except Jon. Lexa saw her mother hesitate before she turned to all of her advisers, who were still standing behind her.

“Go on. Enjoy your evening.”

They all nodded then bowed, before walking away. Daenerys then turned to Anya:

"Take Lexa to get supper then try to get her to bed. She'll need as much sleep as she can get. I'll come to check on her soon."

Anya glanced at Jon, who was still staring at the table, then nodded.

“Come on, I heard they have stew prepared for everyone.”

Lexa let Anya pulled her away, but not before looking back at the map, and Daenerys and Jon, who were now standing close. Then, she looked back at Anya and asked:

“Is stew just soup but they give it another name?”

Anya chuckled, though her laugh didn't sound amused, and more melancholic.

“Maybe.”

* * *

Lexa had been disappointed by dinner, but she'd eaten nonetheless. Anya had then escorted her back to her bedroom and tried to put the little girl to bed. Lexa, however, refused to even consider lying down.

“The dead could be here any minute now! What if I fall asleep and then I don't hear the dead coming?”

“I won't let that happen,” Anya assured her. “I'll be just outside your bedroom keeping watch. I'll wake you up when it's time.”

Still, Lexa refused to so much as sit down on her bed. Every time she became just a bit too still, she could feel her heart beat so fast, she feared it would explode out of her chest. She didn't like the feeling that was festering in her belly, one that made her want to vomit her dinner.

“You'll be tired if you wait outside my room!” Lexa continued to argue. “What if you fall asleep too?”

“I won't. Now come on, your mother ordered me to get you into bed, and that's what I'll do.”

Lexa huffed again, but finally, she agreed to lie down on the mattress, and Anya gently placed a thick fur blanket over her.

“Now try to get some sleep. I'll wake you up and bring you to the crypt when the time comes.”

Lexa nodded fearfully. Anya started walking toward the door when Lexa called her back:

“Anya?”

“What?”

Lexa hurried out of bed and ran straight to her bodyguard, hugging her fiercely. Then, without another word, she returned to bed. Anya seemed stunned for a second, then she walked out of the room, and closed the door behind her.

* * *

Sleep eluded Lexa. As she twisted and turned under her blanket, something seemed to be keeping her awake. Maybe it was her heart pounding in her ears, like a clock, so rhythmically that she lost any sense of time no matter how much she tried to count the passing seconds. Maybe it was her mind which wouldn't quiet down either. All the thoughts about death and ice and fear that she couldn't shake off no matter how hard she tried. She bundled under her blanket when the room seemed to grow colder. Maybe the fire in her hearth had been extinguished by the cold wind. Maybe the dead were already here. They had come so swiftly that no one had seen them arrive, and Anya wouldn't be able to bring her to the crypt.

She heard talking through her bedroom door, and a few seconds later, the wood groaned. The door opened and closed, and footsteps made their way to her bed. She could hear them distinctively, no matter how light they tried to be. Lexa turned around in her bed. Her mother was standing beside it, leaning down as if she'd been about to kiss her goodnight.

“I thought you were asleep,” Dany said.

“I couldn't sleep...”

Dany smiled gently and sat down beside her daughter, who sat up in the bed.

“Are you afraid?” her mother asked.

After a moment of hesitation, Lexa nodded. She didn't want to seem fearful.

“Don't be. You'll be safe in the crypt, nothing will happen to you.”

"Why do we have to hide in the crypt? Isn't that where all the dead people are?"

“Because it's big enough for everyone, all the women and the children who can't fight, and the door is strong enough to resist anything. No one will be able to come in, not even the Night King.”

Lexa nodded in understanding.

“Do you want me to stay with you until you fall asleep?” Dany suggested.

This time, Lexa nodded with certainty. She moved in the bed until she was almost at the edge, and told her mother:

“Here, you can lie down with me.”

Her mother said nothing and simply slid under the cover. Lexa instinctively moved to cuddle with Daenerys, who wrapped one arm around her daughter protectively, while the other lightly stroked her long brown hair with a smile.

“That's how you used to sleep when you were younger,” Dany started in a soft voice. “Every time I put you in your crib you wouldn't stop babbling. You talked and talked and I quickly figured out you just wanted company. So I would take you out of the crib and place you beside me on the bed, and just like that, you would fall asleep.”

Lexa frowned lightly.

“I don't remember that.”

“You were just a baby, when we were in Qarth, I doubt you remember it.”

It was true. Lexa couldn't remember Qarth, or Astapor, or any of the cities before Meereen. Even Meereen she barely remembered. She'd forgotten Ser Barristan's face completely, and soon she would forget Daario's and Lincoln's too.

“What was it like?” Lexa asked. “Qarth?”

"You wouldn't have liked it," her mother replied. "The people there, all they were after was furthering their own agenda. If they could use other people to do it, they would without a heartbeat."

Dany chuckled to herself.

“The greatest city that ever was... They thought letting a dozen tired Dothraki into their city would destroy them, but in the end, they destroyed themselves.”

“How old was I?”

"Just a few moons. We celebrated your first name day before arriving in Astapor. Your brothers were so excited, they brought you fishes that they'd caught into the sea. And still, you wouldn't sleep anywhere else but beside me."

Lexa couldn't remember any of those things her mother was telling her, but she believed them wholeheartedly, with every fiber of her soul.

“I would put you in bed beside me and I thought the waves would rock you to sleep but you were so excited. So I started singing to you.”

Lexa gasped.

“That's not true! I've never heard you sing before!”

Dany chuckled.

“Yes, you have. I would sing you to sleep. I don't know many songs but the few I knew I would sing to you and soon enough you'd fall asleep.”

“Can you sing to me now?” Lexa requested.

Her mother smiled at the request and held her closer. Lexa rested her head against her mother's chest. Dany's voice was faint when she started singing, almost as if she were whispering the words in Lexa's ear:

“High in the halls of the kings who are gone,

Jenny would dance with her ghost,

The ones she had lost and the ones she had found,

And the ones who had loved her the most.”

Lexa listened, enraptured by her mother's voice. She didn't even know until now that her mother could sing, and if she had, she would have requested songs long before then.

“The ones who'd been gone for so very long,

She couldn't remember their name.

They spun her around on the damp old stones

Spun away all her sorrow and pain.

And she never wanted to leave,

Never wanted to leave,

Never wanted to leave,

Never wanted to leave...”

Daenerys' voice trailed off, the words becoming fainter in Lexa's ears. Lexa had been so focused on the song that she'd almost forgotten her heart still beating fearfully in her chest. However, sleep hadn't invaded her, and she was just as awake as she'd been before.

“It's a sad song,” she commented.

“It is,” Dany agreed. “I was told your uncle Rhaegar wrote it. They said he was an incredible singer.”

“Why would he write such a sad song?”

"I don't know. Maybe because he wasn't happy with how things were going on in his life."

Lexa felt her mother's hand smoothing her hair and she sighed longly, content. Maybe the rest of the world had already stopped moving. Maybe Time had stopped completely too. Maybe Lexa could stay there with her mother for the rest of eternity. Unfortunately, the world came knocking at once at Lexa's bedroom door, and time had never been in their favor, to begin with.

* * *

Three hurried, sharp knocks echoed into the room. Lexa was surprised by how quickly her mother managed to let her go, and sit down on the bed. Lexa was still clutching her mother's coat when the door opened. Anya was on the other side, panicked.

“They're here.”

Lexa's blood froze over. Daenerys stood up from the bed, and Lexa lost any grip she had on her mother.

“Take Lexa to the crypt.”

Anya nodded. Lexa was still stunned. Her icy blood suddenly thawed. She'd never felt so warm in her entire life, yet absolutely incapable of moving.

“Lexa, come on,” Anya hurried her.

Finally, Lexa seemed to find herself again. She jumped out of the bed and picked up her two daggers, her sword, her bow, and after a second of hesitation, the piece of dragonglass she'd taken from the cavern, and stuffed it in her pocket. Before she could walk away, however, her mother kneeled before her, holding her by her shoulders.

“Stay safe, my darling. I love you so much.”

Lexa let her mother hug her with all her strength, and she hugged her back, whispering in her ear:

“I love you too.”

Dany let go of her and stood up quickly. She was brushing her eyes as if trying to brush away her tears. Still, her voice was tight when she said:

"I'll come to find you when it's over."

Lexa nodded, and finally let Anya pulled her out of the room.

* * *

They ran among the chaos inside and out. Soldiers were running back and forth between the forge and their position, collecting weapons and arrows. Last-minute changes to the caltrops were being made, as they were pushed in the way. On top of the wall, Lexa saw Sansa and Arya observing something in the distance. The chilling air was biting at Lexa's exposed face, and burning down her throat every time she tried to breathe.

“Hey! Princess!”

Both Anya and Lexa stopped. The young blacksmith whom Lexa had stolen a dagger from was back. He was holding something in his hand. He came running up to Lexa and handed it to her.

“Here!”

He presented her with two weapons. One was a dagger slightly smaller than the others, which she might make the most of, and the other was a broken arahk, half of the blade cut off.

“You can take them both,” he assured her.

After glancing up at him, she nodded and picked up the dragonglass weapon. She slid the dagger in her belt and kept a firm grip on the arahk.

“Thank you.”

She didn't seem him nod in acknowledgment, and started running after Anya instead.

They made it to the entrance of the crypt as the last few women were pushing themselves inside. Two soldiers were standing guard, but she knew at any moment the doors would be closed, and there would be no one but herself to keep watch.

“Here.”

Anya pulled her quiver over her shoulder and handed it to Lexa. It was heavy with dragonglass arrows.

“What about you?” Lexa asked worriedly.

“There'll be more arrows on the ramparts, don't worry. You just keep it for now, and give it back when it's all over, alright?”

Lexa nodded. She didn't quite manage to place it over her shoulder, heavy with so many weapons as she was, but she kept it in her hand, high enough that it wouldn't brush the ground. To her surprise, Anya hugged her just as fiercely as her mother had.

“Now go! And don't you dare walk back out!”

Lexa took a few tentative steps down the dark stairs and turned around. The massive metal door was being closed behind her. The light of the moon outside disappeared more and more, just like Anya who had run off to take her post. With a bang, the door was closed, and darkness enveloped her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I just had to reuse Jenny of Oldstone it's such a beautiful song, and I love the theory that it was the song Rhaegar sang in Harrenhall that made Lyanna cry because of how beautiful it was.  
Anyway, I wanted to thank Tre_rox, veroS94 and x_hoffe_x for leaving comments! I'm very happy to see both familiar and new names leaving comments, and I absolutely love comments so don't be shy, you can leave as many as you want! It's free for you and happiness for me!  
You know what chapter 3 is so I hope to see you all on Wednesday! Have a nice weekend!


	3. The Long Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Locked in the crypts under Winterfell, Lexa can only wait for the battle to be over.

Lexa had made it down the steps carefully. Almost as soon as she'd stepped into the crypt, Missandei had enveloped her into a hug and pulled her further away from the stairs, until they sat down on an old tombstone. There, she'd kept a secured arm around her, and refused to let her go. And so, the longest night in Lexa's life had begun.

The door opened, briefly, and the sounds from outside came rushing in. Over echoing footsteps Lexa heard the screeches of her brothers overhead. The door closed loudly, and only the footsteps remained. Tyrion soon joined them, a dragonglass dagger in one hand and a large flask of wine in the other. He glanced toward Lexa, as if to make sure she really was there, then settled on a nearby stone.

Silence returned. Lexa heard some children whimpering in the distance. The crypt was cold, colder than Lexa's room, but Missandei kept her warm, still holding her as close as possible. Margaery was seated near them, but Sansa wasn't there yet, and Lexa could see Margaery glancing at the stairs every few seconds as if the Lady of Winterfell would suddenly materialize on the steps.

Lexa looked around. The crypt was brightly lit by dozens of torches. Food and supplies had been stashed between the statues and tombs of the former Starks. People sat at the edge of every stone and on every surface available, huddled together to fight the cold. If Missandei had let her go, then Lexa would have gone to explore. None of the other children seemed intrigued by their hideout and remained stubbornly glued to their mothers.

Lexa was fidgeting nervously. She wanted to take her bow off her shoulder, as the rope was digging uncomfortably in her collarbone, but as long as Missandei held onto her, she was barely able to move. A glance at her mother's friend told her the truth. Missandei wasn't holding her to reassure her, but to reassure herself. So Lexa let herself be held.

A loud cry suddenly rose above them, passing through the heavy door so loudly that Lexa could have sworn they were right in front of the door. While everyone else seemed to shrink back in fear, Lexa knew exactly what was going on.

“The Dothraki are charging,” she said.

“That's a good thing, isn't it?” someone asked, though she had no idea who.

“Nothing can resist a Dothraki screamer,” Lexa replied with pride. “They'll crush the army of the dead in no time.”

The screams became fainter and fainter until Lexa couldn't hear them anymore. She held her breath, waiting for something, anything to happen. For the door to open and her mother to let her out with a smile, saying they had won. Silence returned to the crypt once more.

* * *

The loud bang of the door seemed to snap everyone out of their terrified slumber. Light footsteps echoed through the crypt. Everyone seemed to stand up as the lady of Winterfell, a dragonglass dagger in her hand, passed through. Tyrion and Margaery stood up. Missandei finally let go of Lexa, and they both stood up. Sansa looked paler than usual, clutching the dagger, like a child handling something precious and foreign.

Now surrounded by her people, who looked at her with fear and worry, she blinked out of her stupor.

“Has everyone made it to the crypt?” she asked. “Is anyone missing?”

When no answer came, she let out a barely perceivable sigh.

“We have food and water for the next two day but we'll need to ration. I think all the provisions have been dispersed through the crypt, perhaps we should bring them all together. Let's put them in that corner.”

All at once, all the mothers let go of their children and carried the heavy barrels and bags to where Sansa had instructed. Their children followed, helping when they could. Once it was done, Sansa sat down beside Margaery. The brunette took her hand in hers, and they shared a glance. Tyrion and Lexa both came to stand closer to Sansa. Tyrion didn't have to ask any question. The simple look in Sansa's eyes was answer enough. He picked up his wine flask and went to sit down and drink. Lexa sat down in the dirt, her back against a stone. She was still trying to understand exactly what was going on up there, and Sansa's silence wasn't helping.

Once everyone else had settled down, fear took hold of the crypt again. Children started whining once more, while everyone glanced at the stairs nervously every few minutes.

“Where were you during Stannis' attack on Kingslanding?” Margaery suddenly asked Sansa, their voice cutting through the room's tenseness.

“In Maegor's Holdfast with the rest of the women,” Sansa remembered. “Cercei got very drunk, she started making fun of me for trying to pray.”

“Do you want to pray now?” Margaery offered.

“Surely you don't believe that the Seven are looking down on us anymore?” Sansa replied with amusement.

She frowned lightly, then chuckled:

“I think I know why Cercei got so drunk that night.”

She shook the thought away.

“How about a story?” she suggested. “Surely someone here knows a good story?”

No one in the crowd seemed to step forward as if afraid they would disappoint their Lady. Sansa looked down at Lexa, who was seated at her feet:

“What about you, Princess? Surely you have great stories of Essos to tell.”

Lexa shrugged.

“I don't know. I don't remember much of anything there.”

She thought more longly, then decided:

“Maybe... Mother liberated Meereen after my second name day. They said the masters there were crueler than in any other slave city. So when Mother took the city, she had them punished for what they did to the children of their slaves. And then all the slaves were liberated. Every morning or so there was a meeting with the council, and every afternoon we listened to the complaint of the people and tried to help them. We lived in this big pyramid made of white stones. They had this huge garden at the back, with all sorts of trees and flowers.”

The more Lexa spoke, the more her memory seemed to be jogged. She paused, trying to remember what she could, then continued:

“But then the slavers from other cities tried to bring slavery back, and they started killing the Unsullied who patrolled, and the former slaves too. Daario Naharis, he was the commander of the Second Sons, he helped us find some of those bad people. But then...”

* * *

Lexa had told the tale of her and her mother's time in Meereen. Tyrion had chinned whenever necessary, adding details that often made people laugh. Even Missandei joined in after a while. Only Varis kept his short time in Meereen to himself. Once the story had ended, there was no telling how much time had passed. Everyone had almost forgotten what was happening above. A cold wisp of wind coming from under the door brought everyone back to reality, away from the hot Meereenees desert and back to the crypt of Winterfell.

Lexa, tired of seating in the cold dirt, stood up. She brushed the dust off of her and turned to Sansa:

“Lady Sansa, can I go and explore the crypt?”

Sansa glanced over at Tyrion and Missandei, neither of which seemed opposed to the idea.

“Of course but be careful. Don't go too far or you'll get lost. People have managed to hide in this crypts for years without ever being found.”

Lexa nodded. She then turned to look at the children, still huddling by their mothers. Most of them where her age or younger. Few were older, and those who were still clung to their mother desperately.

“Does anyone want to come with me?” she suggested.

She heard no answer. Either the children were too afraid to leave their mother, or they were too afraid of her. Either way, she went on her way, alone.

The crypt had been lit well enough that she didn't need a torch of her own. She moved from tombstone to tombstone, staring at the old names carved in the stones, sometimes brushing dust and cobweb away. Each Stark had been represented in a different position, though most had a sword in their hand, and a wolf by their side. She hoped they didn't mind a Targaryen wandering among them.

She kept in mind how many turns she'd taken, how many statues she had passed and which one she had come across. Surely they would expect her to return soon, or else she knew someone would be sent after her.

Just as she decided to turn back, however, she found a lone bag of food, abandoned in a corner. People mustn't have seen it when they were bringing all the food over. She ran up to it, her light footsteps clicking on the stone ground and echoing around her. She tried to pick up the bag but it was far too heavy for her. Instead, she got a firm grip on it and started dragging it away.

She pulled the bag in short burst, a foot or so at a time. Her hands were far clammier than she remembered, and she could barely pull anymore, as the bag slipped between her fingers. She tried brushing her hands on her fur coat but they would start sweating again almost immediately.

She was still trying to pull the bag when she stumbled back and fell in the dust, the bag refusing to budge anymore. She pushed herself up, cleaning her pants, when her eyes fell on the statue beside her. She had run past it before. It was the statue of a young lady beside a wolf. The lady looked sad, and Lexa wouldn't have been surprised to see tears streaming down her face.

“Lexa?”

She turned to her right and saw Tyrion coming her way hurriedly.

“Your mother would kill me if she knew I let you explore the crypt alone.”

Lexa ignored the man's comment. Instead, she looked back at the statue. There was no name on the grave, nothing to identify her.

“Who is she?” she asked.

Tyrion looked at the statue, and his eyes filled with sadness.

“This was Lyanna Stark,” he explained. “Lady Sansa's aunt.”

“What happened to her? She looks so sad.”

Tyrion pursed his lips.

“Maybe this is a story for another time?” he suggested.

Lexa shrugged.

“Why? We're stuck in a crypt for who knows how long.”

“I don't think your mother would want me to tell you this story.”

Lexa looked back at the statue. She decided if Tyrion wouldn't tell her she'd asked someone else.

“Look, I found a bag of food, but it's too heavy.”

Tyrion looked at the bag which was almost as tall as Lexa herself.

“You go on ahead and tell people about the bag. I'll wait here, alright?”

Lexa nodded and trotted away hurriedly. She met back with the group in no time and said:

“I found a bag of food but it's too heavy. Lord Tyrion needs help to bring it back.”

Sansa nodded, and a few women volunteered to help bring the bag back.

“Where is it?” Sansa asked.

“I left it in front of Lyanna's Stark's statue.”

The name seemed to bring out something in all the people there, as mutters resounded in the room. Lexa could feel some of the women's glare suddenly on her. Sansa ordered the bag be brought back and Lexa sat down on the stone beside Margaery.

“Who was she?” she asked.

“Who, Princess?”

“Lyanna Stark? Tyrion wouldn't tell me.”

Sansa and Margaery exchanged a look.

“Is that why you came back running? So we could tell you before Tyrion returned?”

Lexa nodded, her lips pursed as if to hide her guilt. Sansa cleared her throat nervously, then tried to explain:

“Lyanna was my aunt. She was betrothed to Robert Baratheon.”

Lexa felt anger boiling in her heart. She'd heard the name pronounced many times before. The Usurper.

"She was kidnapped and it's the reason why Robert rebelled against your grandfather," Sansa explained carefully.

“Who kidnapped her?” Lexa asked.

It seemed no one wanted to tell her, not even Sansa. After a moment of hesitation, however, Margaery answered:

“She was kidnapped by Rhaegar Targaryen, your uncle...”

Her voice trailed off as Lexa let the words sink in. But her uncle had been good and kind. She frowned.

"But he couldn't have," she said confidently. "Ser Barristan told me he fell in love with the wrong woman and now everyone thinks he's a monster."

The two women exchanged a look, and Sansa tried to explain.

“When my father found her, Rhaegar had her hidden in Dorne. But it was too late, and Lyanna was already dead.”

Lexa was unconvinced.

“How did she die?”

Sansa frowned and looked at Margaery, who was as clueless as she was.

“Nobody knows. My father never told.”

“Then maybe my uncle didn't kill her,” Lexa decided.

Neither of the women dared to tell her otherwise, so Lexa sat back down on the ground, her eyes falling once again on the stairs. She promised herself to ask her mother as soon as this was over. She was sure her mother would have all the answers.

* * *

The waiting game began anew soon after. The last bag was brought with the rest of the supplies, and everyone settled down again. There was no one to tell a story this time, only silence bubbling in the crypt. Lexa tried to close her eyes and use her ears to listen in on the smallest of sounds. However, the door was so heavy that even in the cavernous crypt, nothing came through.

Tyrion was equally agitated. Maybe he'd had too much wine, maybe not enough, but he was frantically pacing in front of the stairs. A few times he stopped in front of them, and Lexa thought he would rush out, a dagger in one hand and a flask of wine in the other. Every time, however, he walked away and started pacing again.

At one point he stared at the stairs longer than any other times, and Lexa thought he was going to try and get out. She'd been toying with the dragonglass dagger in her hands, trying to get her mind off of things.

Varys, who'd been nervously seating down as still as one of the crypt statues, let out a sigh and said:

“At least we're already in a crypt.”

Tyrion turned around to look at the bald man.

“If we were up there, we might see something everyone else is missing. Something that makes a difference.”

Lexa couldn't agree more. She was ready to stand up and follow Tyrion out the door when Varys scoffed. Tyrion frowned.

“What? Remember the Battle of Blackwater? I brought us through the Mud Gate.”

“And got your face cut in half,” Varys replied.

“And it made a difference. If I was out there right now...”

Sansa intervened so suddenly in the conversation Lexa didn't recognize her voice at first. If one of the ghost haunting this crypt had spoken, chills would have erupted in her skin all the same.

“You'd die. There's nothing you can do.”

Tyrion threw the smaller, emptied flask under a table and picked up a larger one as he walked away from the stairs and toward Sansa. Sansa and Margaery were still seating side by side, and Lexa had been seating on the ground between them for so long that she wasn't sure she'd been able to stand up again.

“You might be surprised at the length I'd go to avoid joining the Army of the Dead. I could think of no organization less suited to my talents.”

As Tyrion drank from the flask, Sansa replied:

“Witty remarks won't make a difference. That's why we're down here, none of us can do anything. It's the truth. It's the most heroic thing we can do now, look the truth in the face.”

Sansa's voice died down. Lexa stared at the dagger in her hands. She could do something. She could protect everyone in the crypt. That's why her mother sent her down there. She could do something. Her hands shook slightly on the weapon. The dragonglass had grown warm from the heat of her hands. She placed it back in her belt. It was useless for now.

“Maybe we should have stayed married,” Tyrion finally remarked, his words attracting Lexa's attention.

“You were the best of them.”

Tyrion's eyes grew wide.

“What a terrifying thought!”

Sansa smiled, amused by his reaction. Lexa had jumped to her feet with a gasp.

“You were married?!”

Sansa glanced at Tyrion with uncertainty, and he tried to explain the situation:

“We were forced to by my father. Then a lot of things happened and I went to Essos to find your mother while Sansa went North.”

Lexa tried to imagine Sansa and Tyrion as a couple, but somehow, she couldn't. Maybe it was because lady Margaery was seating beside Sansa, still holding her hand.

“Now that I think about it, has the King ever annulled our marriage?” Tyrion asked.

“How should I know?” Sansa replied. “I left Kingslanding before you.”

The two turned to Margaery, who shrugged lightly.

“Not that I know of. I doubt anyone ever thought about it.”

“Well, when all of these is over, I'm sure our Queen will gladly annul our sham of a marriage.”

Sansa replied:

“She doesn't have to...”

Tyrion cut her off.

“You deserve all the happiness in the world, my lady, I'm sure the gods will understand. If there are any left.”

He walked away and sat down on the nearest stone available, emptying his flask at a considerable rate. Lexa sat back down on in the dirt and pulled out another dagger, which she began to twirl in her hand.

* * *

Lexa had seen Missandei come and go. She sat down on a bench, then soon after stood back up and walked away, before coming back. Her incapability to sit still was the sign of her worry. After watching her do one too many times, Lexa stood up and decided to follow her. Missandei walked through the crowd and toward an empty hallway, where she would sit on the edge of one of the tombstone.

Lexa silently came to sit beside her. Missandei said nothing at first, so Lexa said:

“I'm sure Grey Worm is fine. He's the best fighter I know.”

Missandei smiled sadly and pulled Lexa into a hug.

“Thank you, Princess.”

Lexa let Missandei hold her for a long time, as silence settled back between them. At that moment, Lexa realized that she was glad Missandei was with her. She'd known her for as long as she could remember, and Missandei had cared for her as much as her mother had. Better than her mother had sometimes. Should anything happen to her mother... Lexa couldn't bring herself to finish the thought. She hugged Missandei back.

After a long moment, Missandei said:

“Let's return with everyone.”

Lexa nodded and Missandei let her go. They walked back toward the crowd. Lexa was about to sit back down when she heard something above them. It sounded like shuffling, as if something was running above so quickly, its feet barely touched the ground. She could see on everyone's faces that they heard it too. Carefully, she picked up her bow from the nearest table and pulled Anya's quiver from under the table. She picked up an arrow and placed it on the rope.

Bang! Lexa jumped away from the entrance. The door was banging on its hinges. Someone was pummeling at the door. Voice loudly came through.

“Open the door! Open the door!”

Lexa moved to stand by the edge of the entrance. Sansa and Misandei soon followed. The desperate please continued.

“Open the door!”

The banging and voices were overtaken by groans, and rattles, and screeches. No more banging. No more pleads. Only silence. Lexa dared a look up the stairs. The air was cold, colder than in the crypt. Smoke rose out of her nose and mouth as she breathed deeply. Her hands were shaking. The torches were trembling. Any light that may have passed under the door was blocked by something. She thought she could smell blood. She walked away and placed the bow and arrow back on the table. Her heart was pounding. She sat back down on the ground and breathed, desperately trying to keep the panic at bay.

* * *

There was no more bang, but the silence never fully returned. Screams, no matter how light, seemed to all make their way down into the crypt. Lexa's hands had been shaking so much that she could barely hold her dagger. A warm ball had settled in her stomach, and nothing seemed able to make it disappear. She felt it trying to claw its way out of her mouth every time she swallowed. She wondered if it was dragonfire caught in her stomach and burning her from the inside, slowly.

There was another scream, and all the women and children around Lexa jumped at the sound. Lexa, whose eyes had been glued to the ground for some time, suddenly looked up. It hadn't sounded like any of the other screams or screeches they'd heard before. In fact, it sounded more like her brothers.

Lexa pushed herself up and quickly walked to the entrance. She remained at the bottom of the stairs and looked up. The smell of blood in the staircase was overpowering now, but there was no sign from the outside that everything was okay, no one opened the door to let them out. Lexa held her breath as if it would help her hear better.

“Don't stand here for too long, Princess,” Tyrion said as he guided her back inside the crypt with a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“I thought I heard my brothers,” she mumbled back.

“I'm sure your brothers are fine,” he replied with a confident voice.

Lexa nodded with uncertainty and sat back down. She thought of Drogon and Rhaegal, neither of whom had eaten properly since they'd arrived. And Jon was mounting Rhaegal, even though he had no experience mounting a dragon. Her mother she trusted, Lexa knew Daenerys knew exactly what she was doing. She had no doubt her mother would make it out alive, and neither she nor Drogon would have a scratch on them. They would make it out, and so would Rhaegal, and they would come to get her out.

Her mind then went to Viserion, her poor Viserion, who'd been killed and was now being used against his will. She hoped they would be able to stop him before he did too much damage, and they would burn the monster who'd killed him. Her heart and throat tightened at the thought. She should be out there, looking for the Night King herself, so she could avenge her brother.

Her hands had stopped shaking. They were now gripping the handle of her dragonglass dagger with strength and resolve. She should be out there helping, there was something she could do and it wasn't inside. Never in her life had she felt more like her brothers, trapped under the Great Pyramid when things were going worse and worse above. She decided if she remained confined another hour, she would probably turn into a real dragon from all of her pent-up will and emotions, and try to smash the door down.

* * *

There was a scratching sound, like rats trying to claw their way out of something. Lexa frowned. She wasn't the only one who heard it. Some of the other women stood up and started looking around, on the side of the tombs. The scratches turned to moan and screeches, as the sound of bones against stone became more and more audible.

Lexa jumped for her bow and arrows. Children crying and women screaming accompanied the hundreds of footsteps as everyone ran away, deeper and deeper into the crypt.

“Come on!” Tyrion encouraged, trying to get everyone away from the dead.

A skeletal hand emerged from behind one of the tombs and reached for the nearest young women. Lexa took in a deep breath and aimed. Her arrow pinned the hand to the crumbled coffin, and with a screech of pain, like ice being blown to pieces, it stopped moving. Lexa hurriedly picked up another arrow and aimed, sure that another dead would emerge soon enough.

It shuffled into the central alley, slowly. Lexa had been breathing in and out, trying to stay in control. She was the first thing it saw, if it could see. Its eyes were gone. Two empty gaping holes were left instead. Something was still clutching to the bones. They weren't white, but brown. The dead's rotted teeth were exposed. It was holding a sword in its hand. Lexa gasped, her hands shaking. It screeched and ran for her.

She acted on reflexes, and let go of the arrow. It dug itself deep in the dead's chest, and it tumbled to the ground with another screech. Lexa thought the silence would return, but all she could hear were screams and cries and screeches. The air was full of sounds. Lexa could barely breathe. She looked around her. The living were all running away, but everywhere they ran, the dead were waiting for them.

“Come on, Lexa!”

Tyrion grabbed her and dragged her away before she could take the quiver with her. His warm hand on her arm seemed to snap her out of it. She was a dragon, she didn't run away from things. Tyrion tried to drag her behind a tomb where a few others were already hiding. As soon as he let go of her arm, Lexa ran out of the hiding place with a scream worthy of a Dothraki. She used her bow as a club and hit the nearest dead with it, snapping it arm straight off its shoulder in the process. Lexa threw the bow away and pulled out her dragonglass dagger, plugging it into the dead man's chest. It crumbled to the ground into a pile of bones.

Screams called Lexa's attention ahead. More women were being pursued by skeletons. Lexa pulled the piece of dragonglass out of her pocket, and threw it with all her strength, like a dagger. It hit the dead who'd cornered a group of women behind a tomb in the back and it fell against the tomb, breaking its skull against the sharp edge of the stone.

A flash of red crossed the corridor ahead. Sansa was fleeing in search of a hiding place, Margaery right behind her. A nearby dead suddenly jumped them. Margaery tumbled back. Sansa stood frozen beside her. Lexa bridged the distance between them as quickly as her legs would allow. She jumped on the dead's back, her dagger stabbing it in the shoulder. She could feel its vertebrae against her. The sensation was strange and unpleasant, once she never wanted to feel again.

Margaery was out of breath as the dead tumbled at her feet. Lexa fell back on her feet. Sansa seemed to snap out of her panic. She helped Margaery up and together they ran.

There were more screams than Lexa could help. People had gone so deep into the crypt she had lost sight of them. When more dead came shuffling around the corner, she was ready. She ran straight for them. She stabbed the first one in the chest and it tumbled to pieces. Its screeches pierced her ears like blades. She felt something sting her arm, but she continued anyway. She stabbed another one. Then another one.

She stumbled back and one of the dead fell on top of her. It was heavy, heavier than she ever thought a pile of bones would be. She tried to breathe but its weight was compressing her chest. Its smell was acrid and dusty. It made her want to stop breathing altogether. She tried to reach for her dagger, but she'd lost it. She managed to pull out her Dothraki dagger instead and started stabbing the dead, who was clawing at her with its sharp bony fingers. She stabbed and stabbed. Sometimes she hit bones, sometimes she sank through them. Nothing seemed to stop the dead. She screamed in pain as she continued to stab it, again and again, no matter how useless it was.

The dead grew completely still, and she pushed it off. Her chest was heaving. Warm blood was running down her face. Sansa was standing on the other side, her hands holding a dragonglass dagger still shaking. She pulled Lexa up and forced her to run to the nearest hiding spot.

* * *

They took refuge behind a large tomb, where Margaery and Tyrion were already hiding. Sansa fell back in Margaery's arms. They were both shaking. Sansa couldn't seem to calm her breathing. Lexa was breathing hard too. She felt something warm trying to fall at the corner of her open mouth and she tried to brush it away. Blood soaked the fur of her sleeve.

"Are you okay?" Tyrion whispered worriedly as he looked her up and down as if making sure that she was still alive.

Blood was still uncomfortably dripping off of Lexa's face, trying to get into her eyes and nose. Tyrion tried to look for something to clean her up, but all he had was his leather cape. Seeming to understand his situation, Sansa offered hers. Tyrion hurriedly brushed the blood off of Lexa's face. She had a few pretty deep gashes on her cheek, and one on her forehead. A few lighter ones, sometimes mere scratches, covered all the way to her neck. It was only when Lexa tried to brush Tyrion away, the sting of the cloth on her face unbearable, that she winced. Her arm had been cut too, just above her elbow.

Screams echoed through the crypt. Hurried shuffling followed everywhere. Screeches became unbearably loud. Lexa dared a look behind the stone.

“We have to go help them!” Lexa said.

Tyrion shushed her with a hand on her mouth and gesturing for her to remain quiet.

“If you return out there you'll die,” he whispered as quietly as he could.

“But everyone else is also dying!” Lexa replied.

“You've already done enough,” Tyrion cut her off. “You can't save everyone, Lexa! For once think about saving yourself!”

Lexa blinked in confusion. How many more people would die if she remained hidden? But she had no weapons. However, Sansa had one, and a quick glance at Tyrion's belt told her that he had one too. As swiftly as her wounded arm allowed her, she stole the dagger from Tyrion and ran out of their hideout.

“Lexa!” he tried to call after her, but it was no use.

More blood was dripping down her face, but she brushed it off. A dead man with a sword ran toward her. She slid under its grasp and stabbed it in the chest. The screeching sound caught the attention of more dead, who came running her way. She yelled at them with all her might, her dagger at the ready.

Before they could reach her, however, a hand wrapped around her and picked her up, dragging her away. She screamed and tried to fight whoever had dared to lay a hand on her, but suddenly she was back behind the tomb. Sansa and Tyrion were out of breath. Tyrion passed the dagger to Margaery, and he grabbed Lexa and started shaking her as if his words would sink better in her brain that way.

“You can't save them, do you hear me! It's too late! You have to live and I'll be damned if I let you die now!”

Lexa blinked in surprise. She was still clutching the dagger in her hand. It would be so easy to wait until he let her go and run back out. It would be like slipping under the Pyramid to see her brothers, no one would be able to stop her. Then, she looked deep into Tyrion's eyes. She blinked again. He let her go, and she sank into the ground, the dagger almost falling out of her hand.

* * *

There was a sigh in the air. Like a whisper. The screeches stopped. The screamed died down. The shift was so sudden that at first, no one seemed to notice. It was only when the silence returned that they all felt something had changed.

Lexa stood up from the ground. The blood was still running on her face and along her arm. The right side of her fur jacket was sticky with blood, soaked so thoroughly that Lexa could feel her own blood against her skin. Without so much as a word, she followed Sansa, Margaery, and Tyrion from behind the tomb, and out in the open. They weren't alone. All the people who had been hiding emerged, one after the other. Varys, blood staining his cheek. Missandei, still holding the arahk Lexa hadn't had time to retrieve. The dead were dead again, but they weren't the only one. Corpses rested against the statues and on the ground, fresh blood dripping in the dirt. The air wasn't cold anymore. It was heavy, and the smell of blood was overwhelming. Lexa gagged. 

The shock had passed, panic had drained from her body. Her gag turned into a sob. Soon, the blood dripping at the corner of her mouth became saltier, mingling with the tears rolling down her cheeks. The gashes on her cheeks burned painfully. She tried brushing everything away, the blood, the tears, the pain, with a brush of her hand. She smeared them all over her face instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! First a big announcement (ish). Just after I post this chapter I will post a Sansaery fanfiction which is losely canon to this story and takes place the night before the Battle of Winterfell (so around the end of episode 2). If you're interested in this short fluff piece then it's called "Under the Weirwood Tree".  
Anyway, I wanted to thank Tre_rox, x_hoffe_x and 1clexa_lover1 for leaving comments. I promised I will reply to your comments personaly as soon as I'm done posting everything!  
For those of you who have read other Green Dragon stories you probably know who lives and who dies already, but for the others, prepare your tissues. Chapter 4 is going to be twice as long as any other chapter, who would have thought that an episode handling both the fallout of one war and the preparation for another would be that long!  
But anyway, as usual, I hope you enjoyed and I'll see you on Saturday!


	4. The Last of the Starks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The dead have been defeated, but the cost was steep and everyone needs time to deal with the aftermath.

Lexa insisted she helped pick up wood to build the pyres. Her mother held her for so long, she didn't think she'd heard her at first. Then she asked Anya to take her to the maester and have her wounds be bandaged, before taking her to bed. Daenerys walked away swiftly, leaving no time for argument. The maester assured her the marks on her face would scar very little with good care, not that she cared. By the time she was escorted back to her room, the bandages on her face had become sticky with blood, and they were glued to her skin, despite gravity.

Anya held the door open for her. She had scratches all over her face and neck, but beside her left arm, broken from a fall and now in a splint, the dead had treated her better than Euron Greyjoy's men.

“I'll be right outside if you need me, okay?” Anya assured.

Lexa took her time to place all of her weapons on the bedside table. She took off her belt, and finally managed to take off her jacket. The long dark fur coat took reddish tons under the light of day. A large portion of the fur itself had grown coarse and hard from the dried blood. Lexa would have burned the coat, but she feared her mother might not agree, so she simply dumped it on the ground. Her shirt underneath was just as soaked, especially the right sleeve. She got out of it and shivered. Her fireplace had died during the night, and only cold air remained in the room. Once Anya understood it, she set out to light the fire again.

Lexa pulled another shirt from her trunk. This one was crimson, it would have meshed with her blood perfectly had she been wearing it. She was careful with her wounded arm, but the bandage slid under the loose sleeve easily. Instead of taking another coat out, she slid into bed. The furs on top of her were her only source of warmth in the room, but they seemed heavier than she remembered.

Once Anya had gotten the fire going, she went to check on Lexa.

"Get some rest and I'll come to wake you up when you have to be awake, alright?"

Lexa nodded, and Anya walked out the door.

* * *

Lexa couldn't sleep. She thought that she would have fallen unconscious as soon as her head touched the pillow, from tiredness alone. It wasn't the case. Instead, every time she closed her eyes, all she could hear were the screams of the people she couldn't save and the screeches of the dead. Many times her eyes opened hurriedly, as she'd mistaken the weight of the blanket on her for the weight of a dead, still scratching at her face.

It was only hours later that she finally fell asleep, so tired that even the nightmares couldn't keep her eyes from closing. All too soon, Anya came to wake her up. The funerals would start soon, and she needed to be there.

Hundreds of pyres had been built outside of the walls of Winterfell. The army of the dead had been put into a pile and was already burning on the other side of the castle. This side was for the living, or what was left of them. Once everyone was there, it became time to say goodbye, and everyone was allowed time to mourn their fallen family. Lexa followed her mother to the pyre, tears stinging her eyes.

Ser Jorah had fallen defending his Queen. He had fought till his last breath making sure she would survive. The sight of him so cold and still made Lexa cry. Her mother seemed to be trying to keep her own tears at bay, but perhaps it was because she'd already cried when he had died in her arms. She leaned forward to press a kiss on his forehead, then whisper something in his ear, though even Lexa couldn't tell what it was. Instead, she placed a wooden toy beside him, a bear who had traveled through the bay of dragons and to Westeros with her. Ser Jorah was the only adviser her mother had lost, but he wasn't the only knight.

Ser Jaime rested on a nearby pyre, Tyrion standing by his side. He had fought valiantly, they said, saving more than one life in the process. Ser Brienne was still alive because of him. She might have gone to thank him, had she not been confined to bed by her injuries. Tyrion seemed to be talking to his older brother, though Lexa couldn't quite make out the words. He sniffed and crush a tear at the corner of his eye, then walked away.

Both ladies of Winterfell were crying, though Sansa was a wreck compared to Arya, who quietly let the tears roll down her cheeks. Both Theon and Jon lay side by side on the pyre, unmoving. Anya told her Arya had killed the Night King, but not before Theon and Jon tried to intervene. Had Jon not distracted their enemy, Arya might have never been able to touch him, and it had coasted his life in the process. Lexa wondered why her mother didn't go to say goodbye to him as well, but maybe she already had.

One after the other, they returned to the small group of living standing by the castle walls. Lexa brushed the tears away, careful not to mess with her bandages too much. Margaery had to pull Sansa away after she gifted something to each of her fallen brothers. Even Sam had to be pulled away from the body of his father. Once Tyrion was once again standing by the side of the living, Daenerys took a few steps forward. She stood there for a moment. Finally, she said, loud enough to be heard over the cold wind:

"We are gathered today to say goodbye to these brave men and women who gave their lives to defend the living. Whether we knew them or not, whether we understood them or not, they fought and died so that we may live. So that everyone in this country may live. Their memory must live on, and their names must never be forgotten. For as long as humans live, they didn't die in vain."

When Daenerys turned around, a torch was handed to her. A few others took torches, and together they walked up to the pyres. After a moment of pause, the pyres were lit. Fire engulfed the pyres, and Lexa soon lost sight of the bodies.

* * *

Her brother's body was exactly where she'd been told it was. It had crashed in the plains, just a short horseback ride from Winterfell. When Lexa first saw it, she was stunned. He looked nothing like she remembered. The golden hue of his scales was gone, only leaving muted gray behind. His wings were torn apart, and half of his jaw was missing. He lay on the hard ground, a light dusting of snow covering his skeletal body. Lexa was almost afraid to touch him, afraid he would crumble into thousands of tiny pieces.

Her initial reaction was to sit beside him and cry. She lay down in the snow, bundled up under her brother's wing, hidden from the world, and cried. She patted his neck lightly, but with each time her hand passed over his scales, a handful was torn off his body and stuck to Lexa's hand. It occurred to her she'd never taken the time to mourn him. When her mother had told her what had happened, all she'd felt was anger. Now that his body was beside her, so still, all her anger had disappeared. It had left a hole in her chest that only sadness could fill.

She would have remained there all afternoon until the night had fallen and someone would come to get her. Instead, she carefully brushed her tears away, and stood up. She took a shovel she'd borrowed at the castle, and started digging. The ground was hard and cold. Shuffling the snow away was easy, but digging in the dirt under it took all the strength she had left in her arms, and each motion stunk her arm where the cut had reopened.

She had no idea how long she'd been digging until she heard Bleeding Star neigh a few feet ahead of her. She could almost feel his fear. She looked up and found a dog walking her way. It wasn't a dog though, or even a simple wolf. It was a direwolf, Jon's direwolf. Its beautiful white fur was matted with blood and dirt. A chunk of its ear was missing, probably bit off by one of the dead. Its deep yellow eyes stared at Lexa, who stopped digging and stared back. Bleeding Star had trotted a few feet away, but Lexa remained and continued to stare at the animal.

Finally, the direwolf came up to her and nudged her hand with its snout. It was almost as big as her. Tentatively, Lexa petted it, avoiding any of the visible wounds. Its fur was far softer than she would have imagined. The wolf let itself be petted, then moved away from Lexa, and started digging next to her. Lexa was stunned at first. She wondered whether he understood what she was doing. He continued to dig, and Lexa picked up her shovel and started digging as well.

* * *

“What are you doing?”

An hour had passed, maybe more, when someone else came to interrupt Lexa. She turned around. It was the tall man she remembered from Kingslanding, the one with the burn on his face. He was staring down at her from the edge of the hole. Lexa had started digging deeper when the ground had grown more pliant. Dirt matted her clothes, but she didn't care.

“I'm burying my brother,” she replied.

“That's not your brother, that's a dead dragon.”

Lexa glared at the man.

“He's my brother and I'm going to bury him! It wasn't his fault the Night King used him, and he deserves a proper burial!”

“Leave it. The snow will bury it, and if it doesn't the animals will take care of it, like this one,” he said, pointing to the direwolf.

"I'm burying my brother and no one can stop me!" she shouted before she started digging again, ignoring the man.

She thought she heard him huff and walk away, but she didn't care. However, she looked up when she heard metal banging together. The man had returned, a bunch of shovels in his hands. He'd dropped a few beside the hole, then had started digging to make the hole bigger.

“You'll be digging all week at this rate,” he grunted, and shoveled more dirt then Lexa ever could.

They dug in silence for a long time, or so Lexa thought. It had only been a few minutes, however, when someone else arrived.

“What are you digging for?”

Both Lexa and the man looked up. Arya Stark was standing at the edge of the hole, besides the pile of shovels. Before Lexa could explain, the man grumbled:

“What does it look like we're doing? Now you can either pick up a shovel and help or you can fuck off.”

Lexa looked back at the man, surprised by his harsh words. He'd started digging again. The next thing she knew, Arya had picked up a shovel as well and started digging beside her.

* * *

They were twenty-five by the end of the day, digging a grave for Viserion. A few Unsullied, including Grey Worm, a few Northerners too. Even Anya had joined in in the end. With heavy metal chains and the help of a few horses, they'd dragged Viserion's body into the hole, and worked to close it off. The sun had completely disappeared by then, and they had to finish under the light of torches.

Once Viserion was buried, Lexa felt a lot better as if filling her brother's grave had helped fill the hole in her chest. After thanking everyone for their help, Anya dragged Lexa back to the castle.

“The party's already started and you're covered in dirt. If your mother saw you right now what would she say?”

Lexa shrugged.

“Probably thank you.”

Anya rolled her eyes. Together they walked through the soldiers' camp leading up to the castle. Already many soldiers were celebrating, including the Dothraki who seemed to enjoy Northern ale quite a lot.

“Stallion!” one of the men called her in his native tongue.

Lexa stopped, understanding that he was talking to her. Anya seemed unsure about letting Lexa talk with a drunken Dothraki, but Lexa didn't seem to mind.

“I heard you killed some of the cold people too,” he said. “Is it true?”

Lexa nodded and replied in Dothraki:

“I killed a few of them in the crypt.”

“You really are the Stallion!” he said with a certain pride. “I wish my sons were as strong as you! I will tell everyone who wants to listen that the Stallion who will mount the world is among us!” he added, before walking away toward the nearest fire.

Anya watched him go with a frown.

“What did he say?”

“He wanted to know if I really did kill the dead people in the crypt. He said he will tell everyone about it.”

“Okay, well, if we make your mother wait any longer, he'll be telling the tale of a dead girl.”

Anya walked quickly toward the castle, and Lexa followed obediently.

Later, she found out that this Dothraki had indeed spread the story of her bravery, but he had also spread the story of how she had turned into a winged horse and spewed fire on the dead inside the crypt. Either way, the story of the Stallion was here to stay in the Dothraki legends for quite a while.

* * *

Lexa changed with the speed of sound and made it down into the great hall before anyone could start to complain about her whereabouts. Anya escorted her to her chair, beside her mother, then disappeared into the crowd, probably to get something to drink. The hall was silent. Unlike the soldiers outside who had been celebrating loudly, all the lords and ladies and important people were still mourning the loss of their friends and family, and especially the loss of their King.

Lexa sank into her chair beside her mother and Daenerys quickly turned to her and whispered:

“Are you hungry?”

Lexa nodded. She wasn't sure how she was still awake. She should have passed out from exhaustion and hunger while digging, but she'd made it to the great hall, and someone had placed food on her plate, and she hadn't waited to see what it was and had eaten ravenously. As she chewed, her mother brushed the dirt off of her forehead.

“I heard you led a small group of people outside to dig a grave for your brother,” she said.

Lexa nodded.

“I couldn't let him just like that.”

“Thank you.”

Her mother placed a kiss on her head, and Lexa smiled before she started eating again. She was almost done with her plate and ready to ask for more when the young man from the forge walked near the head table and Daenerys called him forward:

“Gendry.”

He stopped and turned around, visibly stunned.

“That's right, isn't it?”

Gendry turned around and came to stand in front of the head table. Lexa stopped eating and listened, as everyone else in the room did.

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“You're Robert Baratheon's son.”

Hushed whispers ran around the hall, while Gendry could only nod. Lexa looked the young man up and down. He was the son of the Usurper?

“You are aware he took my family's throne and tried to have me murdered?” her mother said, her voice not hiding her hatred she felt for the man.

“I didn't even know he was my father until after he was dead.”

“Yes, he's dead. His brothers are too.”

She paused for a moment, but Lexa knew it was only for dramatic effect.

“So who's Lord of Storm's End now?”

After some reflection, Gendry replied:

“I don't know, Your Grace.”

“Does anyone?” Daenerys asked, her voice loud enough to be heard in the entire hall, but her eyes never leaving Gendry.

Lexa had no idea either. Her book on the great houses of Westeros said that Storm's End had been the ancestral seat of the Baratheons since Aegon's conquest, which they had taken to the Storm Kings of House Durrandon. Her book didn't say anything about who held it now that all the Baratheons were gone. Around them, everyone else seemed to be asking themselves the same question. Since no answer came, Daenerys said:

“I think you should be Lord of Storm's End.”

Gendry blinked. He was at a lost for words, and when he finally found them, all he could say was:

“I can't be. I'm a bastard.”

“No, you are Lord Gendry Baratheon of Storm's End, the lawful son of Robert Baratheon, because that is what I have made you.”

Lexa saw everyone else staring at her mother as if she'd turned into a dragon herself. Gendry had no idea what to do, and he glanced worriedly at Ser Davos, who stood up and raised his cup.

“To Lord Gendry Baratheon of Storm's End!”

The entire hall stood up and raised their cup as well.

“To Gendry!”

With a smile, Tyrion handed a cup to Gendry, who raised it, saluting the crowd. He walked back toward the tables, while Tyrion walked around the head table to return to his seat. On the way to his chair, he stopped and leaned between Daenerys and Lexa, and said:

“A fitting reward for a hero, and a Lord of Storm's End who will be forever loyal to you.”

“See?” Daenerys replied without taking her eyes off of the crowd, “You're not the only one who's clever.”

Her answer made Tyrion smile, and he returned to his seat.

* * *

After that, the evening became more joyous, as everyone put their mourning aside for the night. Lexa had eaten three plates of food and was dozing off when someone clapped her shoulder with force.

“You!”

Lexa jumped into her seat and looked up. It was one of Jon's friends, from North of the Wall. He smelled of alcohol but stood strong and didn't slur his words as he spoke.

“I heard you saved all of these people down in the crypt when the dead woke up.”

“Oh, well...”

Lexa pursed her lips. She'd killed a few, sure, but she hadn't killed enough, and she hadn't saved everyone.

“How many did you kill?” he asked eagerly.

Daenerys had now stopped her conversation with another lord to listen in on the conversation her daughter was having with the wild man.

“I think... Seven? I remember seven, but maybe there were more?”

The man laughed loudly.

“You really are something else! I don't know many little girls who could kill those fuckers and live to tell the tale! What is it that makes you so strong?”

Lexa shrugged. She just assumed she was strong, as he said.

“I heard people calling you a dragon or a horse, so which one are you?”

Lexa shrugged again.

“I'm both.”

The man laughed again.

“A dragon and a horse! That's why you're so strong!”

The man then raised his cup, or rather the horn he used as a cup, and shouted as loudly as he could:

“To the Dragon Queen and her little Dragon-Horse!”

All of the other attendees, or at least those who had heard, lifted their cups. Daenerys stood up quickly and lifted her cup as well:

“To Theon Greyjoy, Jon Snow and Arya Stark, the heroes of Winterfell!”

Once again, the lords and ladies loudly agreed. Lexa picked up her cup and drank. She coughed and grimaced, almost spitting the liquid out. This wasn't water, this was some sort of alcohol, burning down her throat. She couched and coughed, but no one seemed to notice besides her mother.

“Are you okay, sweetling?”

Lexa shook her head with a pout, handing her cup to her mother. Once her mother understood the situation, she bit her lower lip, as if holding in a smile.

“Oh, I'm sorry... I don't think there's any water. Do you want me to ask for some?”

Lexa tried to answer but yawned instead. It seemed the tiredness of the two previous days were finally catching up to her. Her mother smiled at her.

“Perhaps it's time for you to go to bed. Where's Anya?”

Lexa shrugged and looked around, but her bodyguard was nowhere to be seen.

“I don't know. I saw her walk out with a few girls earlier, but she hasn't come back since.”

Her mother frowned lightly but said nothing. She pushed her chair as if meaning to stand up when Sansa's voice called her:

“Your Grace, I could take the Princess back to her chambers if you want to stay longer. I was about to retire anyway.”

Daenerys assured her:

“You don't have to, Lady Stark. This is your party as much as mine.”

“I don't feel much like celebrating tonight,” Sansa replied.

Daenerys nodded in understanding and looked back at Lexa.

"Do you mind going back to your room with Lady Stark?"

Lexa shook her head and jumped out of her chair. She wrapped her arms around her mother in a quick hug, then walked away. Lady Sansa stood up, then whispered something in Margaery's ear. Once Lexa had caught up with her, they walked out of the room together, unnoticed by the rest of the party.

* * *

Even lit, the corridors remained dark and cold. Lexa felt the crisp winter air on her face, stinging her wounds. She shivered and hoped the fire in her bedroom hadn't been put out. As they walked side by side, Sansa said:

“I never thanked you for saving Margaery's life yesterday. So thank you, Princess.”

Lexa shrugged.

“You saved my life too,” she simply replied.

“I know how much you wanted to save everyone but even alone, you couldn't have.”

Lexa nodded. Everyone thought she'd been brave and strong for defending the people in the crypt, but she hadn't. She'd stayed hidden behind one of the tombs like a coward, and many people had died because of it.

"I'm sorry about your brother," Lexa said. "He was always very nice to me, even when he didn't have to be."

Sansa simply nodded and said nothing. They continued walking in silence, until they came across the castle maester, walking out of a room.

“Maester Walken.”

The maester walked toward them, his chains clicking loudly around his neck.

“My Lady.”

“How is Ser Brienne?”

“She'll live, my lady. She needs time to rest, of course, but she'll be back on her feet in a month or two.”

“Thank you.”

He nodded and walked away, while Sansa glanced at the door. Lexa looked at the door as well.

“Do you want to go see her?” Lexa asked.

“It's alright. We should let her rest.”

“I'm not tired,” Lexa assured. “I can wait a bit if you want to go talk to her.”

After a nod, Sansa came to knock on the door. A feeble 'come in' barely passed through the door. Sansa opened the door, letting both herself and Lexa in.

Brienne was laying down on her bed, furs hitched up to her neck. A large bandage passed over half of her face, and Lexa suspected there were many more all over her body.

“My lady, Princess,” Brienne immediately tried to pay her respects, but even so much as moving her head seemed to hurt her, if her grimace was anything to go by.

“Don't move or you'll hurt yourself even more,” Sansa replied as she came to stand beside the bed.

Lexa looked around the room. It was very similar to hers, with a bed, and chimney, and tables. Brienne's bloodied armor had been thrown in a corner and no one had bothered to clean it after. Two swords attached to two different belts had been placed on a nearby table. One had a lion for a pommel, the other a large ruby encrusted in the hilt.

“I'm sorry I couldn't save your brother, my lady,” Brienne apologized.

“There's nothing more you could have done,” Sansa assured her. “I'll have someone stationed at your door. If you need anything you only have to ask.”

“Thank you, my lady.”

“Now get some rest.”

After another grateful nod, Sansa walked out of the room. Lexa followed with one last smile for the knight.

* * *

Lexa was tired. She kept yawning and yawning, more and more tears ran down her face, and still, she couldn't sleep. She rolled and rolled in her bed, throwing the blanket back over herself every time she felt it was slipping away. Laying down on her side hurt the scars on her face. Laying down on her back brought back the nightmares, as the weight of the furs on her were once again mixed up for the weight of a corpse.

She rolled around in her bed for so long, she heard the happy shouts of the people in the courtyard died down, then pick up again, then died down definitively. The party in the great hall must have been over as well. The fire in her hearth had been all but extinguished, leaving small embers among a pile of ashes. The air grew cold again.

Lexa stood up and wrapped herself in her blanket. It dragged behind her as she walked out of the room. She came to knock at the door beside hers. She heard no answers at first, so she asked:

“Mom? Can I come in?”

After a brief moment of silence, she heard:

“You can.”

Lexa opened the door and walked inside. She was careful to close the door behind her as silently as she could. Then, she walked to her mother's bed. It was larger than hers, and her mother barely occupied the left side of it, hidden under her blankets. Lexa reached the right side and glanced at her mother. Her long silver hair had been completely unbraided. Tears were streaming down her face, making her eyes red and puffy.

"Are you okay, mom?" Lexa asked as she climbed into bed with her mother, throwing her blanket over the bed before climbing under the many layers of cover.

Dany sniffed and tried to clean her face.

“I'm okay, sweetling.”

Lexa slid until she was near enough from her mother that she could hug her. Her mother hugged her back instantly.

“I can't sleep,” Lexa said. “Every time I close my eyes, I see a dead man attacking me.”

“It's alright,” her mother assured. “I won't let anything ever come close to you, ever again.”

Lexa held her mother with all her strength. Dany passed her hand through Lexa's hair, though she continued to cry silently.

“What are we going to do now?” Lexa asked.

"Well, it depends on tomorrow's council," her mother replied. "You could stay here if you wanted to until we take King's Landing. It would be safer."

Lexa shook her head. She didn't want to spend more time than necessary here, but she also knew Rhaegal had been quite wounded in the battle.

“We need to let Rhaegal heal,” she said.

“We will. He's not the only one who needs to heal.”

“Will the north still follow us, now that Jon is dead?”

“I hope they will.”

Lexa nodded as much as she could while trapped in her mother's embrace.

“I'm going to miss him. And Jorah too.”

"I'm going to miss them too," Dany assured. "Jorah was always there for us, since before you were born. And Jon... he would have made a good father."

Lexa frowned lightly. She didn't need a father, never needed one. But if she had... then maybe Jon would have been a good one.

Dany placed a kiss on Lexa's head then said:

“Come on, let's try to get some sleep.”

Lexa shifted slightly so she could hold her mother better, and closed her eyes. The nightmares didn't return, and she slept until the sun was high in the sky.

* * *

The council was held in the early afternoon. All the heads of the armies gathered around a map of Westeros. Anya arrived just on time, still struggling with the belt loops of her coat. Lexa hadn't seen her since the feast, and apparently, she'd had a hard time waking up this morning.

Blocks of wood had been placed on the board, representing their armies, and the Lannister forces in King's Landing.

"Half are gone," Grey Worm said, pulling half of the wooden pieces off of the board.

“The Northmen as well,” Sansa said, while Arya and another lord pulled half of the pieces from the board.

Her mother's new blood rider pulled away two-thirds of the Dothraki pieces silently. Meanwhile, Varys placed more and more pieces on the board.

"And the Golden Company has arrived in King's Landing, courtesy of the Greyjoy fleet. The Iron fleet is now stationed in Blackwater Bay, awaiting our return. The balance has grown distressingly even."

Missandei said with a hopeful voice:

“When the people find out what we have done for them, that we saved them...”

“Cercei will make sure they don't believe it. We will hit her hard. We will rip her out root and stem.”

Tyrion nodded in agreement.

“Our objective is still to take King's Landing without burning the capital, and for that, we need the people to open the gates for us.”

“Thankfully, she's losing allies by the day,” Varis continued. “Yara Greyjoy has retaken the Iron Islands in her Queen's name.”

He placed one of the many scrolls in front of him aside and started cycling through the others.

"Dorne is still awaiting your commend, my Lady," he added, looking at Anya who didn't scoff at the name. "The Reach remains loyal to the Tyrells and have stopped sending food and supplies to the capital. The sooner Lord Gendry can ride to Storm's End and call the Stormlands to arm, the quicker we can add fifteen thousand fresh troops to our army."

Tyrion added:

“I watched the people of King's Landing rebel against their king when they were hungry, and that was before winter began. Give them the opportunity and they will cast Cercei aside.”

Lexa almost thought her mother would laugh as she said:

"Cercei can call herself Queen of the Seven Kingdoms all she wants, but when the people of King's Landing will rebel against her, it'll be a wake-up call she's not going to forget anytime soon."

Tyrion started explaining their strategy:

“We'll surround the city. If the Iron Fleet tries to ferry in more food, the dragons will destroy them. If the Lannisters and the Golden Company attack, we'll defeat them in the field. Once the people see that Cercei is our only enemy, her reign is over.”

Once Tyrion was done moving all the pieces in place, Sansa said:

“The men we have left are exhausted. Many of them are wounded. They'll fight better if they have time to rest and recuperate.”

Daenerys asked:

“How long do you suggest?”

“I can't say for certain, not without talking to the officers.”

Daenerys thought for a moment then replied:

“Will a month suffice? Both of my dragons should have healed by then, and it will give plenty of time for the armies of the Reach, the Stormlands and Dorne to get ready.”

Sansa nodded in agreement.

“A month will do, Your Grace.”

Tyrion looked back at the map one last time, then said:

“So if we are in agreement lady Margaery and Lord Gendry will be escorted to Brightwater Keep and Storm's End respectively.”

He then turned to Anya.

“Will you go to Sunspear?”

“No. I'll send a raven to my sisters, tell them to get everyone ready.”

Tyrion nodded then continued.

“In a month, Ser Davos will lead our main forces down the Kingsroad, while a smaller group of us will ride to White Harbor and sail from there to Dragonstone with our Queen and her dragons accompanying us from above. Should the Greyjoy forces remain in Blackwater Bay by then, we'll burn them down.”

Once all the pieces on the board were in place, Daenerys said:

“We have won the Great War. Now we will win the Last War. In all Seven Kingdoms, men will live without fear, cruelty or need under their rightful Queen.”

* * *

Lexa wanted to train. Anya told her it was a bad idea and she should let her arm heal, but Lexa didn't listen. So Anya watched and commented on her position and aiming, and Lexa fired arrow after arrow. She was halfway through emptying the bucket when a man came running their way.

“My Lady!” he said, as he came to a stop by the archery range. “My Lady, Lord Bran wants to speak with you in the Godswood.”

Anya almost slapped him:

“You're not talking to a lady, you're talking to the Princess! Show some respect!”

The man paled visibly and tried to explain:

"No... I... I was talking to you, my Lady. Lord Bran, he said to fetch you and bring you to the Godswood."

Anya frowned but didn't insult the man any further. She looked at Lexa, who'd stopped firing to listen to their conversation.

“Come on, Lexa, playtime's over.”

Lexa placed her arrow back into the bucket and passed the bow over her shoulder. She followed Anya, who walked quickly toward the Godswood.

Lexa hadn't been allowed into the Godswood, or if she had, no one had bothered to tell her. The air there seemed thicker, and so she hadn't dare walk through the stone arch and into the forest. Now that she followed Anya in, she took a few seconds to stop and look around. At the center of this small, fortified forest, a massive white tree with blood-red leaves occupied the entire space. Its branches, as big as Lexa herself, rose up until they disappeared under its foliage. Snow covered everything around it, though Lexa could still see bloodstains here and there, which brand new snow hadn't covered properly yet. One of these might have belonged to Jon, or Theon, she didn't know.

Lord Bran was seating in his chair by the heart tree. Sansa, Arya, and Daenerys looked at them as they approached. Anya asked:

“You wanted to see me, my lord?”

Arya looked back at her younger brother and asked:

“What is going on? Why bring us all five here?”

“Because there is something that only you must know. It's about Jon.”

Jon's name seemed to quiet any more questions that could have been raised. They all stood in front of Bran and listened carefully.

“Jon needed to focus on the war so I didn't tell him,” Bran started. “Had I known he would die then, I might have.”

“Tell him what?” Sansa asked worriedly.

"Who his parents were."

Silence settled once again. Lexa saw Anya take a few steps back as if she already knew what Bran was going to say, and was trying to get away before he spoke the truth.

“You know who his mother was?” Arya asked in disbelief.

“His mother and father, yes.”

They all frowned.

“Father was Jon's father, we all know that,” Sansa replied.

Bran slowly shook his head.

“He wasn't. He lied to protect him. He promised he would protect him from Robert, so he did.”

Anya was leaning against the heart tree now, her fists clenched and her jaw set as if bracing for the inevitable. Still, Sansa, Arya, Daenerys, and Lexa waited.

“Out with it then,” Arya said as she lost patience.

“Aunt Lyanna wasn't kidnapped,” Bran started. “She and Rhaegar Targaryen fell in love. They got married in Dorne, just outside of Starfall. Then Rhaegar had to leave to fight against the rebels, and he died. When Father made it to the Tower of Joy, Lyanna gave birth to their son. His name was Aegon Targaryen, but Father swore to protect him, so he gave him another one...”

"Jon Snow..." Daenerys whispered to herself.

Lexa watched as Bran's words seemed to create a shockwave, pushing through the four women by her side with the strength of a falling tree. Arya's mouth hung open in shock as she digested the information. Sansa fell against the heart tree, tears running down her face. Daenerys hugged herself as if the cold of the white walkers had returned. Anya, who no longer cared about her broken arm, and punched the heart tree with all her might, making the leaves above them flutter.

“Damn it!” she shouted, before punching the tree again.

“It was all a lie,” Sansa mumbled to herself. “He never betrayed Mother, never.”

Lexa blinked as things seemed to dawn on her. Jon was Rhaegar's son, and Rhaegar was her uncle. So Jon had been her cousin. He was a Targaryen, that's why the dragons liked him.

“Why would you tell us now?” Arya practically shouted at her brother.

“Because you needed to know.”

Lexa watched as Anya punched the tree again, then let herself fall in the snow. She had never seen her cry, not even after all of her family had been killed. Now she could barely stand on her feet. She sobbed and said:

"When Father returned to King's Landing he told me 'You're gonna have another little brother soon, you'll have to help him and protect him'. And then I forgot. Everyone died, I just assumed he was dead too. But then, when I saw him, in Dragonstone... It was like seeing a ghost. And I couldn't even talk to him, I didn't know what to say...”

She tried to brush away her tears but more came running down. Daenerys seemed to have finally recovered:

“Did he knew?”

“He didn't. He never thought of himself as more than Ned's Stark's bastard, when in reality he was...”

“The true heir to the Iron Throne,” Sansa continued, brushing her tears away.

“One way or another,” Daenerys added, “he would have been King.”

Anya stood up and walked away, still brushing her tears. Lexa remained and watched, as she still struggled to make sense of it all.

* * *

A month passed far more quickly then Lexa would have thought. During that time, Winterfell was bubbling with workers rebuilding walls and fixing rooftops, under the order of the newly appointed Lady of Winterfell and Warden of the North. Lord Gendry and Lady Margaery left for the south within a week of each other, and news of their arrival safe and sound relieved everyone, especially after what happened the last time Daenerys sent her allies home.

Varys also disappeared somewhere. Lexa had not been told where and hadn't even noticed he was gone at all. Only one day he was there, and the next he wasn't, without so much as a goodbye. Daenerys and Tyrion talked about it from time to time, always in the same manner:

“Any news from Vays?” Daenerys would ask.

Tyrion would either answer that no, nothing had come through or answer by exactly quoting the Master of Whispers' letter. Lexa understood that he had gone south, maybe even to King's Landing, and that was it.

Anya disappeared for a few days after the conversation under the tree. Lexa almost thought she'd decided to go back to Dorne, but she reappeared soon enough, without so much as an excuse. Since her mother didn't ask for any, Lexa didn't prompt her about the event either, and the entire situation was brushed aside. Jon's parentage was never brought up again, and never would. It was a secret only a handful of people were aware off, fewer so now, and Lexa was determined to keep it that way.

The day came when Rhaegal's wings had healed enough that he could fly without losing his balance. The Northern armies were ready to march south and meet with the rest of their allies. Lexa had been told to pack her things and so she had. The wounds on her face had closed off completely, leaving faint white lines behind, barely noticeable. The nightmares were gone, for now at least, and Lexa was more than happy to finally leave the north.

There was a knock on her door as Lexa closed off her trunk. The door opened with a groan and her mother was standing on the other side.

“Lexa, are you ready to go?”

Lexa nodded and looked at the trunk. It was a massive wooden chest which would require four men to carry it to the cart, and another four to put it onto the boat.

“Do you think Lady Sansa would allow me to borrow a few books from the library? Just for the trip, I promise I'll be careful and have them sent back to Winterfell in no time.”

Daenerys smiled and looked down at daughter with amusement.

“Actually, you won't need any books for the trip back. You and I have something very important to do on the way back.”

Lexa nodded. She was ready. Whatever her mother asked of her, she would do it in a heartbeat.

“Come with me,” Daenerys said. “We have to say goodbye to everyone before we can go.”

Lexa picked up her coat on her bed and slid it on, before following her mother out the door. A small gathering was waiting in the courtyard for them, exactly as they had when they had arrived. It was smaller now, but so was the number of people leaving. Lexa saw Sansa saying goodbye to Arya before she jumped on the back of her horse and trotted out of the castle. Arya would be coming with them to King's Landing because she wanted to kill Cercei, she'd told Lexa.

Everyone's focus shifted to Daenerys and Lexa as they approached them.

“Thank you for hosting us for such a long time,” Daenerys said to Sansa. “I hope we will meet again under better circumstances.”

“So do I. You will always be welcome in the North, Your Grace.”

After exchanging another smile, Daenerys walked away. Lexa looked up at Sansa and said:

“Goodbye, Lady Sansa!”

Sansa smiled at Lexa and said:

“Have a safe trip, Princess.”

Lexa smiled brightly back at her and followed her mother out of the castle. To her surprise, she wasn't handed Bleeding Star, and instead, they walked up the hill toward her brothers' nest.

“Lexa, do you remember what we said about the Iron Fleet?” her mother asked as they climbed.

Lexa remembered clearly, as the question of the fleet had been debated not two days ago at the council.

“There's a big chance they're still guarding the Bay, right?”

"Exactly. And if that is the case, they could put all of our friends on boats in danger. So we need to make sure they are gone, and if they aren't, we need to destroy them."

Lexa smiled.

“Like Visenya?”

Daenerys didn't seem to follow, so Lexa explained:

“After the Targaryen fleet was destroyed by the Arryn fleet she burned down all of their ships with Vhagar!”

“Yes, like Visenya.”

They had reached the top of the hill, and Lexa rushed past her mother to hug her brothers. They still had a few missing scales here and there, and Rhaegal still had a few tiny holes in his wings when he opened them wide, but he could fly straight and that was all that mattered. Daenerys took the time to pet her sons as well before she turned to Lexa:

“Lexa, this is very important. We are going into a dangerous situation and I want you to do exactly what I say. Can you do that?”

Lexa nodded enthusiastically.

“Of course.”

“Good. Now climb up on Rhaegal.”

Lexa's eyes grew wide and her mouth hung open for a few seconds.

“I can ride him?!”

Daenerys held her chuckles at the sight of her daughter.

“I think you've earned it. Plus I need someone on Rhaegal to make sure he stays close to me.”

Lexa nodded and looked back at her brother. He had never seemed as big as he suddenly was, even with his long neck curved down to look at her. She swallowed thickly and took a step forward. Her mother used Drogon's wing bone as a ladder, she could probably do the same. She approached his large claw and carefully stepped on it. She thought for a second she was hurting her brother, as she could feel his bone under her feet, but he didn't seem to care. Next, she needed to grab onto his shoulder to push herself up. Fortunately, Rhaegal lowered himself as much as he could, and Lexa was able to jump and heaved herself up. When she finally reached the perfect place to sit, she felt ridiculously small, like she hadn't since she had started riding on Bleeding Star.

“Are you settled comfortably?” Daenerys asked as she looked up at Lexa from the side.

“I think so.”

“Alright. You're going to have to hold onto Rhaegal as tightly as you can. We'll be flying for a few hours so stay close to me.”

Lexa nodded and wrapped her hands around the two little horns on his back as if her life depended on it, which, in hindsight, it probably did.

“I promise you, as soon as this is over I'll have saddles made, but for now, you're going to have to hold on.”

Lexa nodded. Her heard was beating in her chest so quickly it made her hands clammy. Still, she held on so hard her knuckles were already white. She watched from the corner of her eye as her mother sat on Drogon's back.

“Are you ready?” she asked loudly. “Stay close to me.”

Drogon took off with a flap of his wing so massive it lifted all the snow around them. Before Lexa could brush the snow out of her face, she felt Rhaegal run forward. She was almost shaken off then but held on. She felt herself being pushed flat against her brother's back as he took off, and before she knew it, she was flying.

* * *

Lexa went through quite a few emotions during her first flight alone. It started with a paralyzing fear that made her keep her eyes shut and during which she remained flat against Rhaegal's back, her legs cramping up against his side as far as she could reach. Then, as the harsh wind blew her hair away, she remembered her horseriding lessons. She relaxed her legs slowly. After a good hour of flying, she managed to push herself back up and sit a bit more comfortably. Finally, she opened her eyes.

The fear had almost completely disappeared, leaving only wonder behind. Everything looked completely white around them, covered in fresh snow. She could see so much farther now, much farther than she'd ever hope to. She could still see Winterfell behind her, and White Harbor ahead of her. A small procession of riders and carts, surrounded by Unsullied, was walking under them. They'd caught up with the beginning of the party going to Dragonstone.

Drogon was flying ahead of her, and she could still see her mother on his back, her silver hair and crimson cape flowing into the wind. They took a sharp turn south, and Rhaegal followed. Lexa leaned to the side to follow the motion. Her heart was no longer beating with fear, but with pure adrenaline. She smiled as much as the wind would allow her and continued to observe the wild northern forests around her, and all the hills and villages and castles she could see in the distance.

They flew for a few hours. Lexa had no precise idea of the time, only of the clouds and sun shifting above her. After a while, the adrenaline had disappeared too, and she felt finally at peace. Not afraid or excited, but simply comfortable, exactly where she was supposed to be.

The snow was gone and the dirt and grass had taken over under them. Daenerys moved Drogon so they would fly side by side. Then, she shouted:

“We're almost there! Follow me, we're going to use the sun to take them by surprise!”

Lexa flattened on Rhaegal's back as both dragons picked up altitude. The air became even colder up there. Lexa's teeth began to chatter uncontrollably. She tried to hide her face in the sleeve of her coat. Once they reached the perfect altitude however, after passing through the clouds, Lexa felt the sun on her back, and it warmed her considerably.

“Are you ready? Remember to hold on!”

Lexa strengthened her grip on the horns just as Rhaegal nosedived after his brother. Their roars echoed into the bay. The sun was behind them still, and the Ironborn didn't seem to have noticed them yet. Lexa counted almost fifteen ships sprayed out in the small passage beside Dragonstone. One of them, she had no doubt, was Euron's ship, as it was bigger and had more sails than the others.

They surged on the unprepared fleet. Months of waiting had dulled the Ironborn's focus and ran thin on whatever small amount of patience they already had. Most of them were either drunk or asleep. And the few who saw the dragons approach had no tongue to warn the others before it was too late.

Lexa felt the air suddenly grow terrifyingly hot under her. Even Rhaegal's body seemed to grow hotter when he was spewing fire. Her mother had hit the Silence first, destroying it completely. Lexa took a turn right and let her brother burn down the ships under them. Nothing could resist them. The ships splintered to pieces under her. Once they'd destroyed an entire line, she brought Rhaegal around to take care of another one. Her mother had focused all the ships around Euron's, leaving only two or three untouched. Lexa took care of them. Fire tore them apart. Whoever hadn't been burned to a crisp already had jumped into the water. If they were lucky, they could swim ashore before they drowned. The luckiest would make it to the shores of the Crownlands. The unlucky ones would swim to Dragonstone.

Daenerys brought Drogon around and Lexa followed. They landed on Dragonstone long before any of their ships could make it. All the servants had remained there, as well as a small battalion of Unsullied, just fifteen of them, to keep the island safe in case anyone wanted to try and take it. Daenerys was quick to find the head of the battalion. She ordered him to keep the beach clear, and should any Ironborn wash ashore, kill them, unless they happen to be one Euron Greyjoy. This one was to be captured and brought to her immediately.

* * *

Words of Euron's capture arrived with the rest of their party, as Tyrion walked into the map room with a spring in his step.

“You sure do look happy,” Daenerys noted as he and the rest of her advisors walked into the room.

“What can I say?” Tyrion replied. “The sight of burned ships in Blackwater Bay has always been a sign of assured victory, in my opinion anyway.”

Missandei and Grey Worm followed, Anya right behind them but still no sign of Varys. Grey Worm came to stand beside Daenerys has he said:

“Euron Greyjoy has been apprehended, my Queen. I ordered he was placed in the prisons under the castle.”

“Perfect. Let it be known. Don't be discreet about it either. I want Cercei to know. We'll let him rot for a few days, then we'll see what he has to say.”

Tyrion nodded and exited the room. She then turned to Grey Worm.

“Have everyone ready to leave in five days. No one is staying back this time. We're taking King's Landing.”

* * *

Euron remained in the Dragonstone dungeon for the better part of four days, without food or water. When he was brought in front of the throne, he reeked of salt and stagnant water. The Unsullied dropped him on his knees at the bottom of the steps. Lexa was standing beside her mother, Anya by her side. She could see her bodyguard glaring openly at the man. Tyrion was standing on the other side. Grey Worm remained by Euron's side.

“I hope your stay in the Dragonstone dungeon was of your liking, my Lord,” Daenerys started.

Euron laughed and tried to strengthen himself up as much as he could with his hands bound to heavy chains in front of him.

"I've had worse."

“I'm assuming you know why you're here.”

"Let me guess? You've grown tired of my little shits of niece and nephew and have finally decided to join the winning side."

Daenerys nodded, and Grey Worm punched Euron in the face, so hard Lexa could hear his teeth breaking. Still, Euron continued to laugh and spit blood on the polished stone floor.

“Yara Greyjoy is the new lady of the Iron Islands, soon to be Queen once she helps me take King's Landing. Theon gave his life so Westeros wouldn't fall into

an endless night. I will not let you disrespect either of them.”

Euron laughed.

"I will allow you to go into exile if you cooperate, and tell me what I need to know."

Euron's laughter continued to ring in the room, and it made Lexa want to punch him more than anything. Grey Worm did it for her, breaking the man's nose, out of which blood gushed out, staining the floor.

“What is Cercei's plan?” Daenerys asked. “What is she going to do once we lay siege to the capital?”

“You want to know?” Euron asked. “You really want to know?”

Daenerys glared at him.

“What is her plan?”

"Okay, I'm gonna tell you her plan... Her plan is to sit on her balcony and watch all of you be killed by the Golden Company. And if you kill them first, then she'll just stay there and make you wait and wait until you all die of old age knocking on the walls begging to be left in. And when she dies, our prince will take her place. And I will be by her side, especially when I bring her your head!”

As he spoke, he stood up, and with incredible swiftness, he stole Grey Worm's dagger from his belt. He rushed past everyone, his aim true for Daenerys' heart. However, he wasn't fast enough. Anya pulled out Lexa's dagger and jumped on him. Lexa's dagger found Euron's throat and pierced through it, the bloody tip reappearing on the other side. She pulled it out and he tumbled to the ground, the dagger banging loudly out of his hands. Anya took in a deep breath, and once she was sure he was dead, she cleaned the dagger up.

“Daggers can save your life no matter where you are,” she said as she handed the weapon back, “First lesson my uncle taught me.”

They all looked at Euron's corpse on the ground, still emptying itself of all its blood.

“I'm sorry for killing your prisoner, Your Grace,” she added.

“Don't be,” Daenerys assured sourly. “Not that he was going to tell us much more anyway.”

She looked over at Tyrion.

“Perhaps we should create a Queensguard right away rather than wait for after King's Landing.”

“Indeed it would be a rather good investment.”

He looked back at Euron, then asked:

"Did you hear what he said before he charged? He said something about 'our prince'..."

“You think Cercei is pregnant with his child?” Daenerys asked.

"Can't be. She was already supposed to be pregnant with someone else's child before we met at the council in the Dragon Pits."

“She could have been lying to him to manipulate him.”

“I think she was lying to all of us, even Jaime. She's not pregnant, she just knows exactly how to get men to do what she wants.”

Daenerys nodded and stood up.

“In any case, we will have more time to think about it outside of King's Landing. Put his body in a box. We'll bring it to Yara, let her decide what to do with it.”

* * *

Lexa didn't expect King's Landing to be as big as Meereen, but it was, or at least from what she could see on Rhaegal's back, it seemed to be. It was also completely surrounded, either by tents or boats. The Ironborn had settled their fleet all around the capital, blocking any ships that may try to get in or out. Green and yellow tents occupied one entire side of the city, while brown tents occupied the other. More people were still coming from the south, and their orange flag meant the Dornish were late to the party.

A large council with all the generals was held in the biggest tent, placed a few feet away from the camp above a hill. Lexa was glad to see Ser Davos and Arya again, both representing the Northern armies, while Lord Gendry was back, now wearing the Baratheon colors. Margaery had sent her cousin, Garlan Tyrell, accompanied by Sam's younger brother Dickon Tarly. Anya remained at the head of the Dornish army, though she repeated half a dozen times that it was temporary. Grey Worm was there to represent the Unsullied, and so was Qhono, her mother's blood rider. They waited for Yara Greyjoy to join them, and the meeting could start.

"The Iron Fleet has been burned to the ground, as you've been informed. Tomorrow we will launch a first attack on the city, using the dragons to destroy all the defenses on the walls. Meanwhile, we expect all of you to dig trenches around the city and treat this siege properly. We expect Cercei will want to wait for the proper moment to sent out the Golden Company against us, let's not give her any opportunity."

After moving the golden piece on the map, Tyrion looked at Yara.

“Destroy any ships that try to come in or out.”

“With authorization to loot first?” Yara asked.

Daenerys seemed to consider it for a moment before she replied:

“Keep what you can get, but be careful. No more looting if I hear one of the ships was destroyed.”

Yara nodded, a smirk on her lips.

"I've reached out to the remaining Lannisters," Tyrion continued, "trying to see their allegiances. I can't say for sure whether the Westerlands support us, but I can say some of the lords and ladies do not support Cercei either. In case they decided to attack us from behind, however, the Unsullied will be ready to defend us."

Grey Worm nodded while the right piece was moved into place.

“Our objective is to force the people of King's Landing to surrender the city to us peaceful. Then they will be fed and cared for accordingly. Meaning no bloodshed, unless absolute necessity.”

Before Tyrion could finish explaining the plan, someone came running into the tent, visibly out of breath.

“Your Grace!” he called out. “Queen Cercei wishes to speak with you.”

“What?” Daenerys asked with a frown.

They all looked confusingly at the young soldier in Tyrell green.

"Queen Cercei... she's standing on top of the wall on the south side, with her Hand and all... They said they wanted to speak with you... About some kind of trade."

“She knows we have Euron,” Tyrion summarized.

"Where's my uncle?" Yara asked as if he had completely slipped her mind.

Tyrion looked at Daenerys as if waiting for her to speak. She explained:

“Dead. He tried to kill me so he was killed. I was about to give you his body.”

“You could have fed him to your dragons for all I care,” Yara replied.

Lexa wondered why Cercei would want to trade anything for Euron, or even why she would want Euron back.

“I think this is an opportunity,” Tyrion said. “We may not be able to trade in Euron, but we have better.”

Tyrion looked around the room as if to confirm that everyone was listening to him attentively.

"I spent quite a bit of time in Meereen looking for books I could read. Most of them were in High Valyrian but one was in common. The fall of Valyria. A very interesting story indeed, so many theories. One of them was quite intriguing. The story of former slaves who rebelled against their masters and fled to the free cities. There they became assassins and earned the name of faceless men. And we just so happen to have one among us. Lady Arya, at least according to her sister, spent a few years in Braavos where she was trained by them. Is it true?”

While everyone looked over at Arya, she asked:

“What do you have in mind?”

"What would it take for you to become Euron Greyjoy? We trade you in for Cercei, and you can kill her when you two are alone."

The idea made Arya smiled, like a wolf smiles when he finds an easy prey.

“His face, his clothes, and three hours.”

* * *

Had Lexa not known Arya was a faceless assassin, she would have called her a necromancer. She was placed in a tent with Euron's body, alone, and three hours later, Euron himself emerged out of the tent. If what was left of his body couldn't be seen still laying down on a table, it would have been impossible to know Euron hadn't been brought back to life. Lexa watched with wide eyes as Arya passed beside her, her hands held out to be chained. It may have been Arya Stark underneath, but it looked, spoke and even smelled like Euron Greyjoy. How had she even grown taller than she was?

“Remember,” Tyrion told her as Grey Worm was putting chains on her wrists, “ring the bells once Cercei is dead. We'll send a small group to meet you under the Red Keep. Together you will open the city gates and let us in.”

“You've already told me the plan three times,” Arya said with Euron's voice, “Just because I look like an idiot doesn't mean I've become one.”

Lexa giggled while Tyrion ignored Arya's comment. Once Grey Worm had secured the manacles around Arya's wrists, he said:

“They are waiting for us.”

“Lead the way,” Tyrion said.

Grey Worm dragged Euron behind while Lexa joined her mother and Tyrion. Together along with two battalions of Unsullied, they walked up to the east wall, where Cercei and her people had been waiting for hours on end with no signs of leaving. They all stopped at a reasonable distance. Euron started waving at Cercei and shouted:

"My Queen! I'm touched that you care so much about me!"

Cercei ignored him and didn't even grace him with a look. Daenerys let Tyrion walk forward to talk to his sister.

“You wanted to trade?” he shouted loud enough to be heard at the top of the massive wall. “What is Euron's Greyjoy's life worth to you?”

Lexa looked up at the top of the wall. They looked so small from down there, especially Cercei, dwarfed by the giant Queensguard beside her. Two large crossbow-like weapons had been placed on top of the guard towers. They looked like the weapons on the Ironborn's boats, the one so heavy none had been able to fire before her brothers could destroy them.

Instead of answering, Cercei threw something on the ground. It failed to reach Tyrion, but it was so heavy it made a loud bang upon hitting the ground. The object glistened under the midday sun. After squinting, Lexa realized it was a hand. A golden hand she'd seen before. Tyrion had pulled it out of the ashes of the pyres because it wouldn't burn.

“You think you can scare me with your threats,” she said, talking more particularly to Tyrion. “I always warned Jaime you were out to get us and he didn't believe me. You won't stop until there aren't any of us left, are you?”

Tyrion dared to take a few more steps to pick up the hand. Then he stood his grounds.

"Jaime died a warrior's death. He died a hero like he always wanted to. How will you die? This is your last chance to end this with your life. Surrender now and Queen Daenerys will allow you to go into exile."

Instead of replying, Cercei moved aside just enough for the giant Queensguard to throw something else on the other side of the wall. This time it was a dirty, bloodied bag. It rolled up to Tyrion's feet. He seemed almost afraid to touch it.

“This is my trade,” Cercei finally said. “Kneel now and I'll allow you to keep your heads. The spider refused.”

Lexa watched as Tyrion opened the bag carefully, just enough to see what was inside, before he took a step back, his whole body visibly shaking.

“You can keep Euron,” Cercei continued. “Do whatever you please with him, without ships he's useless to me.”

At her words, Euron started to shout:

"Please! My Queen! I'm begging you! Take me back! I can still be useful! Please!"

Still, Cercei ignored him. Tyrion looked up at his sister and said:

"I hope you stored enough food for ten winters because you will never see spring again."

He walked away, the golden hand in his hand, and left the bag to be picked up by Grey Worm, and brought to his Queen.

“What do we do now?” Lexa asked as she followed Tyrion back to camp.

“We wait.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Longest chapter ever!  
This was definitely the longest chapter in the story. I was almost tempted to cut it in half but I wanted to stay consistant with the events of each episode. Chapter 4 is definitely the diverging point from the show, as you may have guest.  
I also wanted to apologize for everyone who was excited about Jonerys. The only problem with having Lexa has the only POV character is that I couldn't show the battle and how Jon died. There will still be some Jonerys elements in the rest of the story (though if you've read the rest of the Green Dragon series you already know what it is)  
I had to let Arya use her faceless assassin's skills at least once, even if it wouldn't work, I hope you can forgive me for that too. I can't remember anythnig else that might have angered you in this chapter but I apologize?  
And I know in the books Garlan Tyrell is Margaery's older brother, but since he didn't appear in the show I thought I might give him a chance to shine anyway.  
Finally, I wanted to thank x_hoffe_x and Tre_rox for leaving comments. I think that's all I had to say. I hope to see you all on Wednesday for the siege of King's Landing! Have a nice weekend!


	5. The Bells

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lexa tries to entertain herself during the siege of King's Landing.

Lexa had no memory of the siege of Yukai, and barely any of the brief siege of Meereen. For her, Winterfell was the only siege she'd ever been too, and she wasn't fully aware that Winterfell wasn't a conventional siege at all. She became very quickly acquainted with what a real siege was when she longly stared at the walls of King's Landing, bored to death with the concept of sieges itself. Now she understood completely why Aegon had burned down Harrenhall.

Tyrion later told her the two most important moments of a siege were the beginning and the end. A siege set up properly could drastically change the outcome. Lexa assumed theirs was impeccable. The Iron Fleet kept the entire bay closed off. The Dornish army was stationed along the river. The armies of the Reach and the Stromlands had taken over the forest, along the west-most point of the city. The Northerners had taken over the plains, blocking the King's Road, while the Unsullied had set camp behind them, prepared in case of an attack coming from the Westerlands. Now it was all about waiting for the second most important moment, the end of the siege. Lexa only hoped that would be before her sixteenth name-day.

Once the siege was set, their priority was to destroy the long-range scorpions on top of the walls, as they could not only hit the dragons but any siege weapons they would build. The task would have fallen to Daenerys and Lexa, but her mother decided to post-point for a day, to first give Varys the proper burial he deserved. Lexa wasn't allowed to see him, or what was left of him. She could only imagine his head and even then imagining it served from its body was a difficult task.

No one really mourned him. Lexa barely knew him and had never really liked him. Daenerys still didn't fully trust him when he had left for the south. Only Tyrion seemed distraught, as he explained to Lexa he had come to consider Varys as a friend.

“I think he knew,” Tyrion told her. “I think he knew this was how he was going to die, but he went anyway.”

In the end, Lexa concluded that Varys was a far braver man than she'd ever believed him to be.

* * *

Lexa woke up very excited that morning. Sleeping in a tent, alone, on a cot with a pile of furs on top of her felt new and exciting, even though she had spent most of her toddler years that way. The sight of so many men working together to build the siege weapons and dig trenches was exciting too. But most exciting was her chance to ride Rhaegal that day. She found her mother in the big tent, talking to Garlan Tyrell about supply chains.

“I'll send the Unsullied further down the road.”

Garlan bowed.

“Thank you, Your Grace.”

Garlan exited the tent, giving a friendly smile to Lexa as they passed each other.

“Are we destroying the walls now?” Lexa asked.

Daenerys smiled with amusement.

“We're not destroying the walls, only what's on top of them.”

Lexa pouted, but it was already something. She followed her mother out of the tent and toward where her brothers had nested. A small chunk of the nearby forest had been burned by them in an attend to make a bigger nest, and fortunately, the fire had been controlled quickly. Still, Lexa found her brothers rolling in ashes like pigs in mud, bathing in it and spreading it around them.

“We'll attack them from the sea,” her mother explained as they reached the dragon's nest. “I trust you to take care of the right side, can you do that for me?”

Lexa nodded. She climbed on her brother with more ease this time. Rhaegal offered his shoulder to boost her up and once she was in place, she waited for her mother to mount Drogon.

"Do you think I can go flying with Rhaegal after? Or maybe tomorrow? If this siege is going to last a long time then I'm going to get bored very soon."

Daenerys climbed on Drogon and said:

“I'm sure this siege won't last as long as you think. But we'll see, okay?”

Lexa smiled, settling more comfortably on her brother's back. This time, she flew off with her mother, and together they flew past the camp and toward the water.

They passed over the bay and Lexa saw the Greyjoy ships. They were all anchored in a semi-circle around the city. She could also see the Red Keep clearly, with all of its spires and towers. It kept climbing and climbing and Lexa wondered what was at the top, and how long it would take to climb so high. She imagined they could destroy it if they wanted too, but there would be no point to that, besides forcing them to rebuild another castle later.

“Be careful!” she heard her mother shout.

Lexa nodded and lowered herself on Rhaegal's back. The wind whipped her loose brown hair behind her. Rhaegal was flying so low his claws were touching the water. Drogon picked up hight in front of them, and Rhaegal followed. The city was perched on top of a rock, but Lexa couldn't see any of the houses behind the wall. Only once Rhaegal was high enough could she see all of their red roofs.

Drogon took a sharp turn right just as he reached the wall. Lexa saw fire spewing out of his mouth and burning down the top of the walls. All sorts of debris dropped into the water and crashed on the shores, adding to the remains of the Iron Fleet which had washed ashore. The soldiers were so focused on Drogon, trying to turn the scorpions to aim at him, that they didn't see Rhaegal coming. Lexa leaned to the right and her brother followed. Once again she could feel his scales warming up under her, as fire fell upon their enemies. Lexa saw smoke rising from behind them. All the weapons were crushed under the strength of Rhaegal's fire.

She followed the wall, slowly leaning to the left. On the other side, she could see the many rows of tents of their army. A lot of the soldiers had stopped whatever they were doing to stare at the dragons. Lexa noticed they were getting closer and closer to the Red Keep. The soldiers had started to organize there, and while there were no scorpions close to the castle itself, archers stood at the ready. On the other side of the city, she could see Drogon coming onto them. She frowned. Dozens of tiny arrows flew toward her brother. He reared back, and all of them hit his chest and splintered on impact.

Lexa reached the end of the wall and followed her mother who flew off above the city. The archers couldn't keep up with them, even if they tried to run after them. The entire top of the wall was on fire, encircling the city completely. She heard shouts from the people under them. In the middle of the city, Lexa saw the ruins of a crumbled building. It must have been big and important before, as it had been on top of large steps and there was a lot of rubbles. Her mother seemed to think the same, as she slowed down. 

“Stay up there,” she ordered.

Lexa watched as Daenerys flew Drogon down on the ground. He landed on the rubbles, stones sinking further under his weight. All the people gathered around stopped and stared. Rhaegal circled above them, and Lexa listened as her mother spoke to the crowd:

“People of King's Landing! My name is Daenerys Targaryen, rightful Queen to the Iron Throne and Protector of the Realm! I have nothing against you! I seek to depose the tyrant who seats in the Red Keep, Cercei Lannister! She doesn't care about any of you! She will watch you starve and die while she stays up in her tower and waits! Take back your city from her! If you ring the bells and open the gates, my armies will help you liberate the city from her rule! They will feed you and protect you until stability can be restored! Ring the bells! Open the gates and I promise you bloodshed will be avoided!”

A few guards had come running through the streets. Daenerys took off before any of them could aim. She flew up to Lexa, and together they flew back to camp, having done all they could do to help.

* * *

The arrow hit the target, but barely. Bleeding Star ran past the target and Lexa sighed. Anya was standing out of the way and came closer to check Lexa's progress.

“Well, at least you hit it this time.”

Lexa brought Bleeding Star around with a huff.

“Why is it so hard? Kids younger than me are supposed to do it!”

“Yeah, and how many die trying?” Anya noted. “Just stop trying to get up all the time. You don't have the right saddle for it. Focus on hitting the target, and then we'll see about making things more difficult.”

Lexa huffed again but brought her horse back to the starting line Anya had drawn in the grass. Lexa waited until Anya was out of the way, then started her horse forward. As Bleeding Star galloped toward the target, Lexa picked up an arrow from the quiver beside her. She put it on the rope and aimed. She let out a breath and released the arrow. It zipped ahead of them and hit the target with so much strength the target almost tumbled back. Once Bleeding Star had run past it she slowed him down and walked around to see the target. It would have been a bullseye safe for a mere inch. Anya pulled the arrow out of the target forcefully.

“See, what did I tell you? One step at a time.”

Lexa was about to take her position again when screams filled the air. Both she and Anya frowned. In the distance, she saw the Dothraki charging, all individual riders coming together to form a large wave of horses. She tried to see where they were going, but there were tents in the way.

“Something's going on by the forest,” Anya said.

Lexa sent Bleeding Star to a trot and followed along the alley of tents, toward where the Dothraki had been not moments ago. Once she made it out of the camp, she finally had a clear view of the forest. It seemed the Golden Company had attempted an all-out assault on the Baratheon and Tyrell forces, and the Dothraki had seen the charging horses in the distance and decided it was time for some action.

Lexa watched as the golden mercenaries, some on horses though most on foot, charged into the forest, jumping over trenches and avoiding spikes to attack the ill-prepared Baratheons, who occupied most of the area. The Dothraki would flank them, and probably cause quite a bit of damage. Through the trees, she could see flashes of gold, where the mercenaries' armors caught the sun. The screams of the charging Dothraki soon quieted down, replaced by cries of terror and death rattles.

Anya caught up with Lexa on foot after a light sprint and came to stand by her side.

“Should we go help them?” Lexa asked.

“You are not going anywhere,” Anya replied.

“Maybe I should go tell mother about this.”

“She'll find out soon enough. But trust me, there won't be any golden man left standing once the Dothraki are done with them.”

Indeed, soon after, the Golden Company tried to retreat. Lexa saw them, one or two at first then two dozens, running out of the forest as fast as their legs would take them. They reached the door without problems, but the door wouldn't open. They banged and banged on it, but it wouldn't budge. Dothraki riders emerged out of the forest, their powerful horses jumping over the trenches, and the cowardly mercenaries were slain to the last.

* * *

Lexa wanted to ride Rhaegal but he and Drogon had gone hunting, so instead, she sat down atop a hill and played with the grass. The walls of King's Landing had yet to budge. Lexa wished they could destroy them, it would end this siege quickly, but both her mother and Tyrion kept insisting it would send the wrong message. The top of the wall had been turned to a pile of rubbles. One of the large metal bolts of the scorpion had fallen to the foot of the wall. They'd tried to pick it up as the metal could be repurposed, but it was so heavy it would take ten blacksmiths to work it all into new swords.

“Princess.”

Lexa dropped the handful of grass she'd torn off the ground to look at Grey Worm who approached her.

“The Queen wants to speak with you.”

Lexa nodded and stood up. She brushed the dirt off her pants and followed Grey Worm back toward the camp. The Unsullied were still facing the Kingsroad, waiting for an eventual attack from the Westerland. Tyrion said there was no sign of an incoming attack, but also no sign that there wouldn't be one, so they better keep their guard up just in case.

Grey Worm led her to the big tent where her mother spent most of her days, waiting for the good news of their victory and tending to the news and problems of the greatest army the world had ever seen. Grey Worm waited outside the tent while Lexa walked in. Tyrion was already inside, talking with her mother:

“Are you sure?” Tyrion asked.

Daenerys, seating in a chair, nodded.

“She deserves to know,” she replied. “Tell her to write directly back to me with her answer.”

“I'm sure I already know the answer, but I'll ask anyway.”

Tyrion left the tent, giving Lexa a bright smile which made Lexa almost hesitant to continue forward. Daenerys, sensing her daughter's hesitation, stood up from the chair and said:

“Come to me, my darling, I have some very important news.”

Lexa nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. She came to stand in front of her mother. Daenerys kneeled to be on her level and smiled at her. Lexa was becoming quite unsettled by everyone smiling so happily around her, especially when the door to King's Landing remained close.

“Lexa, I have very exciting news for you but you must keep it a secret, at least until we take the capital.”

Lexa nodded again. Her mother placed a hand on her belly and said:

“You're going to have a little brother or sister soon. Maybe both from what the maester said.”

Lexa blinked as if trying to understand what her mother was saying. She was going to have a younger sibling? Maybe even two all at once? She gasped and her eyes grew wide.

“Really?”

Her reaction, so full of wonder and excitement, made her mother laughed.

“Yes, really. You'll still have to wait a few months before they're ready to come out, but when they do, you'll have to protect them and be there for them.”

Lexa pouted.

“A few months? Why can't they be here now?”

Her mother laughed and pressed a kiss on top of her head.

“Because that's how it is.”

Dany hugged her and Lexa let herself be hugged, her mind reeling with questions. In fact, she realized she didn't even know how babies were made. She'd never asked her mother how she'd been made, and she had no idea how her siblings had been made. The idea to asked her mother crossed her mind, after all, she had to know, but her mother was very busy right now with the war. She decided she would ask someone else who had to know, maybe Tyrion or Missandei. If neither of them knew, then maybe Anya did. Either way, someone would have to answer her questions.

Once her mother let her go, she warned her again:

“Remember, this has to stay a secret for now, it could be dangerous if the wrong people found out.”

Lexa nodded vigorously to show her understanding of the situation.

“Who else knows?” she asked. “That way I know who I can talk about it with.”

Daenerys seemed surprised by Lexa's pragmatic question but replied:

“For now only Tyrion and the maester knows. I will tell Grey Worm and Missandei later. And lady Sansa will know soon once Tyrion has sent her a raven.”

Lexa frowned.

“Why lady Sansa?”

Dany pursed her lips as if trying to find the best way to phrase it.

“Because your younger siblings will be her niece or nephew.”

Lexa tried to understand the situation. Anya was her mother's niece because her father was her mother's brother. So her sibling's aunt was the sister of their father, so their father had to be Sansa's brother. So the twins' father was Jon Snow, Lexa realized logically. It couldn't be anyone else, not with how much time they had spent together before. Lexa would see them trying to hold hands sneakily, but they weren't sneaky about it at all. Maybe that was how her siblings had been made, too much hand-holding. 

“I'll keep a secret, mom, I promise.”

“Thank you, my darling.”

Daenerys placed another kiss on her head before getting back up.

“Now go on, I'm sure your brothers are back from hunting.”

Lexa left with a skip in her step. She was going to be a big sister! This she had to tell her brothers! They would be just as excited as her, and it wasn't like they could tell anyone!

* * *

As days went by, Lexa could be rarely seen on foot. She was either on Bleeding Star, mastering the art of archery the Dothraki way or on Rhaegal, exploring Westeros. She felt quite like the First Men, exploring this new continent she had never seen with her eyes before, except that she had a dragon when they'd had to walk all the way North. It was quite frequent for Lexa to disappear soon after lunch and reappear before dinner. The siege hadn't moved, the doors were still closed, and no one had attacked, so she wasn't missing anything. On the other hand, she had seen quite a lot.

One day, she flew back to Dragonstone, just to see how small the island was compared to King's Landing. She landed on the grass and took a nap there, as she knew it was the only safe place where she could rest without being bothered, or in danger. Before she left, the ladies working in the kitchen gave her a meat pie which she brought back to the camp with her and shared with everyone she considered family: her mother, Tyrion, Missandei, Grey Worm, and Anya. She gave her mother the last slice, because if she only got one then the twins would have to share, and it just wouldn't do.

One day she flew south, all the way to the Dornish Marches. She landed in Summerhall, where her mother had brought her to tell her Viserion was dead. She explored the ruins of her ancestral home there, looking for anything interesting she could bring back. She assumed the place had already been emptied after the fire, and everything that had been left behind had been pillage by thieves at one point or another. Still, she didn't come back empty-handed. She found a singed wax seal, with the three-headed dragon at the bottom. She found a piece of a scroll, barely readable, though it mentioned Sir Duncan the Tall. Finally, hidden under a few tiles, she found an old ring, with a broken ruby in the middle. The metal had melted, but it seemed there used to be dragons dancing around the gem. She brought it home with her and proudly showed her findings to her mother.

One day, she flew to Highgarden. She circled it a few times, just to get a good look at the gardens from above. She hadn't intended to stay but Lady Margaery waved her down and invited her inside for tea. Lexa had been raised properly and knew she couldn't refuse – especially if there was lemon cake – and lady Margaery took her through the gardens. She said they were much more beautiful in summer, but they were already so beautiful Lexa wouldn't believe it. She left with a cake and was late for dinner.

One day, Lexa decided to go see Harrenhall for herself. She flew above the God's Eye and the Isle of Faces and flew around the massive castle. It was bigger than the Red Keep, but it was far uglier too. The five giant towers had melted under dragonfire. The castle seemed to be falling apart. People might live at its foot, but no one resided in Harrenhall, besides the ghosts of its many tenants. On her way back she dared to land in the Isle of Faces. It was hard for Rhaegal to land among the many trees, but when he finally managed they didn't stay long. The trees, with their strange faces and bleeding eyes, seemed to stare at her. The feeling was unsettling and brought back too many memories of the dead coming back to life. She left without so much as a glance back.

* * *

When Lexa heard the bells, she half-believed it was her mind playing tricks on her. She probably wasn't the only one, as she could see soldiers around her staring at the city in disbelief. Still, the bells rang, and the doors opened. Lexa rushed to the big tent. She hadn't been the only one, as all of the other commanders had made it there after the first bell tolled.

“Prepare as much food as you can and be ready to give them water,” her mother was explaining to both Garlan and Gendry. “These people have been promised food and peace, we will not disappoint.”

The two lords left in a hurry to prepare their troops. Meanwhile, Daenerys turned to Ser Davos.

“I trust the Northern troops to secure the city, at least to the Red Keep. Make sure there are no Lannister soldiers ready to ambush us.”

"I'll send the Dornish troops in reinforcement," Anya proposed.

Tyrion nodded.

"Each force can take half of the city and report back once you're done."

With a nod, both disappeared out of the tent, Anya in a light jog and Davos walking as quickly as he could.

“Send word to the Ironborn,” Daenerys continued, “the blockage is not to be lifted until we've taken the Red Keep.”

Tyrion left to send the message and Daenerys turned to Grey Worm.

“The Unsullied will stay here for now and continued to watch our backs. Western reinforcement could still be on the way. We will wait until the city has been swiped, then they will escort us to the Red Keep.”

Grey Worm nodded and left the tent in turn. Daenerys fell back into the chair behind her. She too had been caught by surprise. As Lexa looked at her mother, she thought she could see a slight bump in her coat. Her pregnancy would show soon, as Tyrion had explained to her, and then it would be impossible to keep it a secret anymore, especially with twins.

“Is it really over?” Lexa asked.

“It's not over until Cercei has been taken prisoner. But here, sit with me until we're sure the city is safe.”

Lexa agreed and allowed her mother to pull her onto her lap, keeping her still with her hands around her waist.

“Why don't you tell me where you've been yesterday? You came back so tired you went straight to bed.”

“Oh, I went to see the Eyrie! It was really cold up in the mountains. I don't know how they managed to put a castle up there!”

* * *

The city had been cleared, the population had been fed, and the Unsullied had made a path straight to the Red Keep, where the rest of the Westerosi armies and the Dothraki were fighting there way through to Cercei. Lexa put on her best coat, the one with a crimson tainted fur, and climbed onto Bleeding Star. The small Targaryen delegation, led by Grey Worm and ten Unsullied, would march to the castle. Lexa could already see her brothers circling over the city.

“Stay close to me,” her mother ordered.

Lexa nodded, and the small group trotted down the hill and through the gate. Already, the population of King's Landing had sworn on either side of the Unsullied. Their cheers could be heard from the camp, but now that Lexa was in the middle of them, they were disorienting. Lexa let Bleeding Star follow the group while she looked around. The people were applauding them, some were even throwing flowers toward them. They were welcomed into the city like liberators. Lexa puffed up her chest and straightened her back.

Their horses' hooves clapped loudly on the pavement, attracting the attention of everyone who wouldn't have been aware of the procession. There wasn't an inch where people hadn't swarm to see them pass through, from the gate and to the Red Keep. Sometimes they pushed against the Unsullied shields, trying to get a better view, but no one dared to pass through.

At first, Lexa was overwhelmed by everything. The sun burning down on them, the sounds, even the smells. The bells were still ringing. The people were screaming things but she couldn't understand what. It took her half of the journey up to finally get a hold of her senses. The ringing and the cheers had disappeared in the background, she'd gotten used to the sun. Then, she started waving back at the crowd. And the crowd started waving back at her. They weren't afraid anymore, she thought, they liked her now.

They reached the Red Keep and found the main gate busted and the courtyard covered with blood. Most of it belonged to Lannister soldiers, while some belonged to their forces. Lexa saw a few Dothraki running around with more pieces of armor they had looted off of their enemies, just like they'd done with the Golden Company. Grey Worm and half of his men were sent ahead to make sure the fighting was over.

At first, Lexa didn't dare climb off her horse. There was so much blood in a courtyard, she would dirty her shoes at least to her ankles. But then, she realized everyone else had climbed off, so she had no other choice but to step into the pool of blood. She grimaced as she took quick steps to her mother, accidentally splashing even more blood on herself.

"We'll get you changed as soon as possible," her mother decided at the sight of Lexa's bloodied pants' legs.

Grey Worm returned with Anya, who was still brushing tears out of her eyes. She sniffed and cleared her throat, then explained:

“The Keep is cleared. All of the Queensguard have been killed, some Lannister soldiers have surrendered, they were taken to the dungeons....”

Her voice trailed off and she continued with difficulty:

“We found Ellaria and Tyene in the dungeons... They're both dead.”

Daenerys nodded in understanding.

“And Cercei?”

“She locked herself in the throne room. We haven't broken through the doors yet but we know she's alone.”

“Good.”

Daenerys walked forward with determination, and Lexa followed. More dead bodies were clustering the halls, all the way to the entrance of the throne room. There, Lexa saw the body of four of the Queensguard, including the giant man who had taken quite a beating. With his helmet off, he looked more decomposed than freshly killed. Arya's sword was still planted in his eye, while she kneeled beside the Hound, who had let out his last breath.

Two dozen Northerners were still banging on the doors. Lexa could see the metal hinges being pulled out of the stone wall, bit by bit, more and more as the men rushed the massive wooden doors. She stepped away, remaining behind her mother.

The hinges finally yielded, and fell on the marble floor with a loud bang, cracking it in many places. Arya left her friend's body behind and stood up. She, along with the soldiers, rushed inside. Lexa could almost visibly see the fury in Arya's body, like a storm trying to break out of its bottle. Once the soldiers had stepped inside, Daenerys walked over the door, and Lexa followed.

The room was empty. The lights had died down, and sunlight was barely strong enough to light the inside of the massive throne room. Lexa's mouth hung open at the sight of it. It was even bigger than the one in Dragonstone. She took in all the details at once. The massive braziers around the stone pillars. The pillars themselves, decorated with twisting vines and flowers. The ceiling, so high she was sure a dragon could standing inside without much difficulty. And at the end of it, the throne.

The soldiers who had first come in had encircled it quickly, though none had raised their weapons. They moved aside, however, when Daenerys stepped through. Cercei was still seated on the throne, her body sank to the side, her eyes closed. A small vial had fallen out of her hand and rolled at the bottom of the steps. Her crown had fallen onto her lap.

Beside the throne, Arya was reeling. Lexa almost thought she was going to stab the dead body anyway. Once Tyrion had taken in the sight, he sighed:

“Poison was always her favorite weapon.”

“Get her out of my sight,” Daenerys said. “We'll deal with her body later.”

Two Northerners hesitantly came forward. They picked up the body and the silver crown fell onto the ground. They heaved her away. Daenerys picked up the crown and handed it to Tyrion.

“Have the blacksmith melt it, good metal can't go to waste.”

Tyrion nodded. Lexa watched as her mother stood in front of the throne for a long moment, simply staring at it. Sure, when Lexa had read that it was made with all the swords Aegon's enemies, she assumed it would be bigged, and less smooth, especially if it had been forged with dragonfire, but it was still a throne. The throne, the one her mother had been after for her entire life.

Daenerys took a few steps closer, then placed her hand on the armrest. After a long moment of silence, she sat down in it. Around her, everyone was holding their breaths. They watched with rapture as Daenerys took the throne for herself.

“The Queen is dead,” Tyrion suddenly shouted. “Long live the Queen!”

“Long Live the Queen!” the small assembly replied, then started chanting.

Their voice rose high into the room and echoed long after they had stopped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Just one more chapter to go!  
I debated longly on how I was going to kill off Cercei, between Arya killing her or Cercei killing herself like she almost did back in season 2. My sister also suggested she jumped from the tower, as Tommen did, but I don't think it's Cercei's style. Cercei had to go out with one final F-you to Daenerys and dying on the throne, depriving every one who wanted her head of the chance to actually kill her, seemed more like something she would do, in my opinion anyway.  
Anyway, I wanted to thank Tre_rox, x_hoffe_x, and AnotherTime for leaving comments! I hope to see all of you on Saturday for the final chapter and oh boy is this one full of surprises and emotional... That's all the spoil you're getting out of me, see you on Saturday!


	6. The Iron Throne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The war is won, and soon Lexa will be a big sister of her own. Everything was looking up for them, but the gods had other plans...

Lexa has been living in the Red Keep ever since. She could brag that she knew it like the back of her hand, but that wasn't actually true. Years of explorations and discoveries were decidedly not enough to map out the entire castle, and she was too busy now to play that sort of game anymore. However, it had been her favorite one when they had first moved in.

It wasn't uncommon at the time to see her running around the castle, opening every door and hiding behind every pillar. It had only taken her a matter of days to find the passage to the catacombs, where the skulls of her ancestors' great dragons were kept. The gardens had been thoroughly mapped out in a couple of afternoons, or so she thoughts until she found a set of stairs leading to another part of it altogether, and she was right back to the beginning.

Though she trusted her daughter, Daenerys was quite afraid Lexa would get lost in the massive castle, which is why she always found someone she could assign to the task of keeping an eye on her. Lexa was always very quick to lose them, and free to spend the rest of the day on her own.

One such day, Lexa had outrun the Unsullied supposed to watch over her and was playing in Maegor's Holdfast, jumping around the map of Westeros. She'd already spent hours looking at the many details of the map. Now she was jumping from city to city, singing the name of the House residing in each castle.

“Storm's End. The Baratheons. Griffin's Roost. Connington. Crow's Nest. Morrigen. Stonehelm. Swann. Blackhaven...”

She paused, one foot in the air and her tongue caught between her lips as she tried not to fall, then remembered her lessons.

“Dondarrion. Summerhall. Us.”

The sound of scraping stone made her stop her game. She put both her feet on the ground and looked to her side. A cat had jumped on the nearest wall. Its fur was a dull gray, almost black. It was missing an eye, and one of its ears had been chewed off. Its other eye was yellow and mean. It seemed to be glaring at Lexa, warning her not to approach. Lexa, however, had two dragons for brothers and wasn't afraid of an old cat. She continued to stare at the cat and approached slowly.

“It's okay. I'm not gonna hurt you,” she promised.

She took another step closer, then another. Lexa was almost close enough to touch it. It didn't seem to like it at all, as its fur stood on end, and it started spitting and hissing, its claws out.

“Hey, it's okay. I'm nice.”

Still, the cat continued to hiss. Lexa thought it was going to run away, but instead, it ran at her. Lexa ran back with a scream as the cat tried to jump on her, its claws all out.

Before it could attack again, however, loud footsteps echoed behind them and Anya appeared up the stairs. She stopped when she first saw the cat, looking at the old animal up and down. Then, she put her dagger back in its place and kneeled, holding out her hand.

“Balerion, stop. Come here.”

The cat seemed to react at the name. It stopped trying to jump on Lexa and looked at Anya instead. It calmed down. Its hair smoothed and its claws retracted. The cat sniffed the air and approached Anya slowly. It stopped just short of her and sniffed her hand. When it seemed to recognize the odor, it started rubbing its head against her head. She smiled. 

“Yeah, I'm happy to see you too.”

She scratched under its head and petted it, then picked it up. It let itself be picked up and continued to rub its head against Anya.

“How did you do that?” Lexa asked with admiration.

“What? How did I save you from a cat?”

Lexa rolled her eyes.

“You didn't save me!”

"Are you sure? Cause I could have sworn I heard you scream all the way from the bottom of the tower."

Lexa pulled out her tongue and glared at Anya. Anya looked around, the cat still in her arms.

“What are you even doing here?”

“I'm playing on the map, see?”

Anya moved closer to inspect the map.

“Sunspear looks so far from here,” she commented. “But it's definitely closer than Winterfell.”

Lexa looked down at the bottom of the map. Sunspear was on the other side of the Stepstones, which she remembered passing through not long ago.

“When are you going back?” Lexa asked.

“I don't know. I'll stay until your mother is crowned, and then we'll see.”

A large crowning ceremony had been organized in her mother's honor, and each house had been given enough time to send a delegation, no matter how far they lived. Whether she wanted to or not, Anya was at the head of House Martell now, though she'd already refused the title of Princess publicly.

“You could always stay,” Lexa replied. “I could still use some practice in archery and I'll always need a bodyguard.”

Anya sat down on a low wall, the old cat still purring in her arms.

"You can hire any master-at-arms you want now, and your mother will have a Queensguard soon enough to protect you as well. You don't need me anymore."

Lexa shook her head.

“You're my friend too.”

Lexa came to sit beside Anya and wrapped her into a hug.

“I don't want you to leave.”

Anya smiled sadly and returned the hug with one hand, after placing the cat in her lap.

“I know.”

The cat remained on her lap and bundled there as if it still were a small kitten. When Lexa separated from her, Anya took her small hand and placed it delicately on the cat.

“Here.”

The cat let itself be petted. Its fur wasn't soft anymore, it was dirty and coarse, but Lexa didn't mind.

“What's his name?” she asked.

“Balerion.”

“Like the dragon?”

“Yes, exactly like the dragon.”

* * *

The castle had never been livelier than when all the Houses of Westeros, big and small, gathered in King's Landing for Daenerys' crowning. Both Margaery and Sansa made it to the Red Keep in record time, and it wasn't unusual to see them walking around the gardens side by side. Anya was so busy coordinating the arrivals of the Dornish Houses, and meeting with each member, that Lexa barely saw her until the ceremony.

Words of Daenerys' pregnancy had spread like wildfire, and it was impossible to hide it anymore. She had a swollen belly, not enough to be a hindrance yet but enough for everyone to see that she was expecting. This meant almost daily refitting for her clothes for the ceremony. During those refitting, Lexa would sit near her mother and wait. Her outfit was perfect for her, and she didn't grow quickly enough that any refitting was necessary. While the seamstress worked on the dress, measuring and adjusting, and Daenerys stood still among them, Tyrion would run through a list of concerns.

“Lord Edmure Tully wants a meeting with you before the ceremony concerning an annulment of his wedding.”

“Shouldn't he be seeing the High Septom for these things?” Daenerys replied, trying to remain as still as possible while her crimson cape was being adjusted.

“You haven't appointed one yet, Your Grace,” Tyrion noted.

“Haven't I? We've been appointing people left and right I can't keep track of them all. Why haven't we appointed a High Septom yet?”

“Because most of the possible candidates died when the Sept was blown off. I'll look more into it once the ceremony is done.”

Daenerys nodded. Once the seamstresses were done, they helped her off the platform and led her behind a screen, to help her undress properly.

“So what should I tell Lord Edmure?” Tyrion asked.

“Tell him I won't annul his wedding when he already had a child. He can set aside his wife and send her to live wherever he pleases, but the child is his legitimate heir and I won't change that.”

Tyrion took note, then moved on to the next point on the list.

“The small council has approved the repeal of Aegon II's law.”

"When will it take effect?" Daenerys asked.

“As soon as you sign the papers.”

Lexa frowned, her legs still swinging back and forth on her chair.

“What law is that?” she asked.

Tyrion turned to face her.

“The law which says only the male heir can sit on the Iron Throne. It would mean if one of the twins happened to be a boy he would automatically become your mother's heir and you wouldn't get to become Queen.”

Lexa didn't like the sound of that law, and she was glad it was being repealed. She had been prepared most of her life to become Queen one day, and her brother wasn't even born. He would have become an incompetent King if he was suddenly chosen as the heir with no proper training first.

"Anything else?" Daenerys asked as the seamstress was helping her back in her dress of the day.

“Lady Sansa wants to have a word with you soon, but other than that, we've been through everything for now.”

“Good. Go and make sure everyone has been settled comfortably. Tell them I'll see them at the feast.”

Tyrion bowed and left the room. Lexa jumped from her chair.

“Can I go too?”

“Go where?” her mother asked.

“I don't know.”

Daenerys emerged from behind the screen. Her black dresses had to be recut to fit her growing belly. It still felt so strange for Lexa to see her mother getting bigger and bigger every day.

“Will you accompany me to my office? There's something we need to talk about.”

Lexa nodded and walked side by side with her mother. They slowly made their way through the corridors. After a few twists and turns in the hallway, Lexa looked up at her mother, expecting her to speak. However, Daenerys waited until they made it to her office, and the door was closed, and she was seated in her chair, to speak.

“Lexa, what I'm going to tell you is very important, and I want you to think about it, alright?”

Lexa nodded. She was standing in front of her mother and Daenerys took both of her small hands in hers.

"In Westeros, it's customary for high born children once they reach their tenth nameday to squire for another Lord or Lady for a few years, until they return home. I know you're not old enough yet, but I think it would be good for you to spend some time learning about Westeros. You could go everywhere you want. I'm sure Lady Sansa or Lady Margaery would be happy to have you. You can even go to Dorne if you'd like."

Lexa nodded, though the words didn't seem to process in her mind.

“Can't I stay here with you?” she asked.

Her mother smiled and pressed a kiss on her forehead.

“Of course you can. As I said, it's not for another few years. You can take all the time you want to think about it.”

Lexa nodded again, though she had already made up her mind. She would stay here with her mother and her siblings because there was no other place for her to be.

* * *

In her letter to Lincoln, she wrote 'the crowning ceremony was big and everyone kneeled in front of my mother, so she must have liked it greatly'. Everyone had been waiting in the throne room. Lexa thought they wouldn't all fit but they did. She walked in ahead of her mother, dressed in Targaryen black and crimson, her hair braided intricately to reflect her status as a Dothraki with two victories under her belt. She had been allowed to carry one dagger, mostly because after what had almost happened with Euron her mother wanted her to always be able to protect herself.

She came to stand beside the throne with Tyrion, then her mother walked in. She, too, wore black and crimson, with gold embroideries. Her long hair was braided in an even more intricate fashion than Lexa. The material of the dress was taut against her belly, but no one dared to comment on it. The room was perfectly silent. She walked among the crowd with grace and power, then came to sit in the Iron Throne. Tyrion picked up the crown on a pillow beside him and climbed up a step-ladder, allowing him to place the crown on her head. They had longly debated over whether he should be the one crowning her or not, but Daenerys wouldn't have it any other way, and so he was the one placing the golden crown on her head. It was magnificent and seemed to make two dragon wings, one on each side of her head, which met in two large rubies. Once the crown was placed on her head, Tyrion stepped aside and said: 

“I present to you Queen Daenerys of House Targaryen, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, and Protector of the Realm. Long may she reign!”

“Long may she reign,” the crowd chanted back.

The ceremony was technically over, but Daenerys didn't want it to stop now. She wanted to make sure any of the Houses who had rebelled against her and her ancestors kneeled before her once again, so she would be sure of their renewed fealty. Lexa was used to standing beside her mother's throne, even if she hadn't done it in a while. The Lords and Ladies of Westeros, however, were not used to standing still at all. Tyrion had a very long scroll, on which the representative of each House was named. He would call them one by one to the bottom of the stairs, and they would kneel. The higher on the list, the luckier you were, and Lexa knew the list had been purposefully made to make the Lords and Ladies who hadn't supported her wait longer than the others.

It started with the Starks and all the Houses of the North, as they had fought many battles side by side and kept their promise in helping her secure the throne. Lady Sansa was the first to kneel, and all her banner-men and women followed.

Then Anya and the Houses of Dorne were called forth. They had been on her side from even before the North and had suffered a great loss. However, she knew they would be on her side even if she made them wait for the entire length of the list, unlike the North who would have taken greater offense.

After that, it was Margaery's turn, followed by the Houses of the Reach. House Tyrell had pledged itself alongside House Martell, however half of the Reach had rebelled against them. Lexa felt a certain satisfaction upon seeing Dickon Tarly and the other heads of the rebellious Houses kneeling one after the other.

Halfway through the list, Lexa's mind started to wander. She thought about writing a letter to Lincoln since she hadn't written to him in a while, and his last letter told her nothing at all was happening in Meereen. She was mentally writing the letter, trying to organize its content, when the Lords of the Eyrie were brought forth.

Lexa had heard about Lord Robin before, especially from Sansa who was his cousin. She'd said he was a sickly boy very easily manipulated, much like his mother. When she saw him kneeling at the bottom of the steps, he no longer was a sickly boy, but a tall and lanky man. She didn't know how easily manipulated he was, but she assumed with Lord Royce by his side, who was next to kneel, there shouldn't be any problems.

Then came the Lords and Ladies of the Stormlands, Lord Gendry the first. Lexa tried to refocus on the ceremony, as she ought to know everyone, and who their Houses were. A few names stood out to her, like House Connington of Griffin's Roost, as they had been close friends of House Targaryen before the rebellion, and for that, they were at the beginning of the list. When the representative of House Connington stepped forward, the oldest daughter to the Lord, Daenerys spoke:

“I've been told your family was stripped of its lands and titles after the rebellion.”

The woman, whom Lexa had already forgotten the name looked up and nodded. Whips of blonde hair fell in front of her face.

“We were, Your Grace. As punishment for my uncle siding with your father.”

"Well, that won't do at all. Lady Connington, send a raven to your father, and tell him all of your lands and titles have been restored on my order."

The woman's eyes bulged out of her skull in surprise. She stood up and bowed.

“Thank you, Your Grace.”

She walked away toward the balcony, and Lexa followed her with her eyes. She picked up a little girl who had been waiting for her there, probably her daughter, Lexa assumed. The girl must have been about Lexa's age, with long blond hair like her mother. Many Lords and Ladies had brought their children with them, maybe in the hope that they would become friends with Lexa. She hadn't spoken to any of them yet.

After the Stormlands came the people who hadn't done anything to support her mother. First, the Crownlands, though there were very few houses there. Then came the Riverlands, who hadn't supported her but hadn't opposed her either. No representatives of House Frey had bothered to come, and for that Daenerys had charged Lord Edmure Tully with bringing her the Head of the House, whomever that may be. Lexa glanced at the balcony where she could see Arya smirking, and a shiver ran down her spine.

The air became thick with tensions when the Lords and Ladies from the Westerlands were called forward. After all, Cercei had been the head of House Lannister, making her Lady Paramount of the region. Since Tyrion was too busy being Hand of the Queen, the job of Lord Paramount should be given to someone else, and that someone hadn't been decided yet. One by one the Lords and Ladies were called forth and scrutinized by the Queen. House Lannister of Lannisport was all that remained, as excepted Tyrion, the entirety of the main branch had disappeared. Many Houses had disappeared completely, destroyed by the War of the Five Kings or the explosion of the Sept. Members of the extended family had to be found and hastily called upon, which had been the case for House Clegane. The younger brother of Lord Kenning of Kayce had been appointed new Lord of Clegane's Keep, as his mother had been a cousin to Ser Sandor Clegane, last Lord of Clegane's Keep until his death at the hand of his own brother.

This kneeling ceremony lasted all but three hours, and when all was said and done, all the Lords and Ladies were invited to the great hall for a feast. Any complaints about the ceremony had long been forgotten before the end of the day.

* * *

Lexa almost fell asleep on her plate multiple times. The party had lasted all afternoon, and food was still being served. Daenerys had suggested Lexa go to sleep multiple times, but she didn't want to. She wanted to act like a real Princess, and be a part of every discussion brought up to her mother, or at least listen to them. However, she'd eaten enough for a week, and her legs were growing numb from seating for so long.

"Why not take a little break?" Tyrion finally suggested. "Take a small walk, come back once you're feeling better."

Lexa nodded and pushed herself out of her seat. There were a few children in her room, but none had dared to come to talk to her. Even now that she was walking out of the room, on her own, none of them dared to approach her. The stories of the savage girl followed her everywhere, apparently.

She made her way through the lit corridors. She knew her way through them easily by now. She decided to go to Maegor's Holdfast, jump around on the map a little, maybe it would help her legs feel less numb, then come back. She came across a few servants in the corridors, whom she saluted. One of them proposed a biscuit and she agreed, though she kept the biscuit in her hand and decided to eat it later. Few Lords or Ladies had left the party already, and the few who did were walking back to it. They, too, needed a break, Lexa assumed. She even came across Sansa and Margaery. Sansa seemed embarrassed by their meeting, and Margaery winked at her and told her it was a secret between them. Lexa didn't know what was secret, but she shrugged and let them return to the great hall.

She climbed up the stairs to the map silently and stopped when she saw someone was already there. It was a little girl, about her age. She realized it was lady Connington's daughter, as her blond hair cascaded down on her shoulders under the yellow light of the moon. She was seating on the low wall, and drawing, Lexa assumed. Lexa remained hidden in her darkness of the stairs a moment, holding her breath. She wondered if she should approach the girl or turn back and leave her be. Maybe she too was tired of the party and wanted to be left alone. Lexa could understand.

Footsteps came from the other side of the room. Many of Maegor's Holdfast's rooms had been given to unmarried highborn ladies, as it was the tradition. Out of one of the corridors lady Connington appeared and called her daughter:

“Clarke, come here! There's someone I want you to meet.”

The little girl jumped from the wall and ran toward her mother's voice.

“Coming, mama!”

She disappeared back inside, and Lexa finally dared to emerge out of the darkness. The girl had taken her drawing with her. Lexa sat down on the low wall where the blonde had been a few seconds ago and looked up. The moon was full and brightly yellow, its light reflecting on the clouds. She could see her brothers turning high in the sky. They had nested in the Dragon Pits, but they never stayed there for long. Lexa wished she could go with them, but she had duties to attend to. She bit into her biscuit and walked back toward the party.

* * *

The guests left many at a time, some the day after the feasts and others remained for weeks or even months after coming. Some never left. To Lexa's surprise, Anya had decided to remain. Sansa also stayed, at least until the twins were born, she'd decided. Lady Margaery had also decided to wait until the birth of the twins. It wouldn't be long now, Lexa knew. As time passed, her mother became rounder and rounder, to the point that she could barely move between her bed and her office. She stopped giving petitions, though promised they would open once again after the birth of her children. Tyrion bothered her a few times a day with urgent matters, but for the rest, he and the small council could handle things for a few months.

Lexa stopped wandering around the castle, she stopped practicing her archery or even going to the library. From the moment she awoke to the moment she fell asleep, she was with her mother. Sometimes she even fell asleep in her mother's bed, and Daenerys didn't dare to wake her up, so she let her sleep there.

The maesters said the twins would be born in a few days now, and Daenerys could barely get out of bed. She remembered being able to walk and even ride while she was pregnant with Lexa, but with the twins, she could barely move. She relied on Lexa and Missandei to bring her things most of the time. Her mother's weakened state worried Lexa, though Daenerys had told her it was normal, and it would pass once the twins were born.

Daenerys had to rely on tricks to get Lexa out of her room, though Lexa only understood it later when all the memories of her mother came flooding back to her. She'd asked Lexa to bring her a copy of the new book the Archmaester had sent, and so Lexa had gone through the library twice before she'd been told it was in Tyrion's office. She took the book since Tyrion wasn't there. She found him talking animatedly with her mother, in her chambers.

“You don't have to do this,” Tyrion told her.

“I do. Sign it now, and have the rest of the small council sign it too. You can burn the damn thing once it becomes useless but until then...”

Her mother stopped talking when they heard the sound of Lexa's footsteps coming closer.

“What are you talking about?” Lexa asked, the big book slipping from under her arm.

Daenerys, who was seated in a chair looking out the window, smiled at her daughter.

“Nothing, sweetling. It's just in case something bad happens.”

“Why would anything bad happen?” Lexa asked worriedly.

They'd won the war, crushed their enemies, her mother was Queen now. Nothing bad could happen now.

“Nothing bad is going to happen,” Tyrion replied. “Don't worry.”

He left with another nod to the Queen, a scroll in his hand. Once the door had closed off, Lexa handed the book to her mother.

“Here! It's the new book.”

Daenerys opened it and looked at the ornamented first page.

"What is it about?" Lexa asked as she hadn't had the time to look through it.

“The rebellion and the War of the Five Kings,” her mother replied.

She set the book aside and helped Lexa climbed onto her knees.

“We can read it later if you want, but first, do you remember where we stopped?”

Lexa nodded.

“Yunkai. That's when Daario helped us liberate all the slaves.”

"It is. Let's see... We remained in Yunkai for a few weeks. You celebrated your second nameday there. Bleeding Star was an early gift if I remember correctly. Then we rode to Meereen..."

Lexa leaned against her mother, her head falling on her shoulder and one of her hands resting against her mother's belly. Sometimes she could feel her siblings kicking back at her. It seemed they were just as excited to meet her as she was to meet them. Just a few days, she thought to herself. Just a few days left.

* * *

Lexa had been sleeping in her bed that night. Light snow was falling outside, but it wasn't what had woken her up. It was her mother's scream, echoing through the hallways. Lexa had jumped out of bed and rushed to her mother's bedroom, where the maester and Missandei already were. Anya was waiting outside, and she caught Lexa as soon as she saw her running.

“What's going on?!” Lexa shouted.

Another scream coming from the room made her fight Anya's grasp even more. However, Anya held on tight and wouldn't let her go.

“Hey, hey, calm down, it's okay!”

Lexa continued to stare at the door, but since nothing else happened she finally calmed down enough to look at Anya.

“It's alright. The twins are coming, but your mother is with the maester and Missandei is with them, it's gonna be okay.”

Lexa's eyes darted between the door and Anya.

“But... but why is she screaming?” she asked in a small, broken voice, close to sobbing.

“Because giving birth is painful, and giving birth to two children is even more painful.”

Slowly, Anya relaxed her grip on Lexa's arms. Lexa didn't try to fight her anymore, and let herself be brought near the door. Another one of her mother's screams tore through the door and echoed down the corridor. Lexa broke down into a sob, and Anya wrapped her into a hug. Grey Worm was standing guard by the door. He, too, looked visibly worried. Soon after Tyrion joined them outside the door, and together, they waited.

Lexa tried to stop crying, but every time her mother screamed the tears returned. The sound made her soul shake in her body. More than once she tried to make her way inside, and every time Anya had to hold her back. Tyrion was pacing in front of the door. Time passed. More snow fell outside in a single morning than in the previous five months. Not since Winterfell had Lexa seen so much snow. On any other day, she might have followed the example of the other children and gone to play outside, but not on that day. There, she remained by the door like a faithful hound, waiting.

Sansa and Margaery came by a few hours later, to see if progress had been made. They proposed to take Lexa outside for an hour or two. Lexa refused. She remained by the door, brushing tears away that returned almost instantly. She didn't go back to bed, she didn't even eat at lunch. She waited and waited.

When the door finally opened, it was to Missandei. The front of her dress was covered with blood, and so were her hands, no matter how much she'd tried to clean them. The screams of her mother had been replaced by newborn cries, two of them. Lexa was still crying, but she saw everyone's shoulders visibly sink in relief that both children had made it.

“It's done,” Missandei could only say in a sigh.

While she talked to Tyrion and Anya quietly, Lexa sneaked into the room. The maester was still tending to her siblings in a corner, so she came to stand by her mother. The sheets covering her were matted with so much blood, Lexa wondered how a single human being could contain so much. She rounded the bed, trying not to look at the pool of blood. Her mother was pale, paler than she'd ever seen her. Even her lips seemed completely devoid of color. Sweat covered her face. Small silver hair stuck to her forehead. Her eyes seemed unfocused until Lexa approached, and she smiled.

“Did you see them? Your little brother and sister?”

Her voice was broken, weak, Lexa could barely hear her. She shook her head.

“Not yet.”

“They're so small... You'll have to protect them and take care of them, okay?”

Lexa nodded. The maester approached with a baby in his arm, which he placed in Daenerys' arms. She could barely move to take the babe, wrapped up in cloth.

“The first one is a girl, Your Grace,” the man said.

Lexa looked down at the baby. She was very small, with a flat little nose. A small tuft of dark hair was still sticking to the top of her head. When she opened her eyes, they were big and light blue, almost gray.

“Look, Lexa...” Dany said, with tears in her eyes.

Lexa sniffed and smiled down at the baby.

“What's her name?” she asked.

“Lyanna,” Dany replied, “like her grandmother.”

Lyanna was already struggling to get out of her bundle. The maester returned, this time with Lyanna's twin in his arms.

“And your son, Your Grace.”

Dany was barely strong enough to hold wiggling Lyanna. She looked at Lexa.

“Do you want to hold him?” she asked.

Lexa nodded, though she had no idea how. The maester showed her, and her little brother was placed into her arms. She looked down at him with mesmerized eyes. He looked like Lyanna, but with an even rounder face. He barely had any hair on his head, and when he opened his eyes, they were almost purple.

“Hey...” Lexa said as her brother looked up at her.

“Aegon,” Dany said, “like his father.”

Lexa nodded and continued to stare at her brother.

“Aegon,” she called him.

She thought Aegon was smiling.

Tyrion came to place a hand on Lexa's shoulder, trying to pull her out of the room.

“Come on, now, Lexa, both your mother and siblings need to rest.”

Aegon was taken out of her arms and placed in a crib. Same for Lyanna. Daenerys didn't even try to struggle as her children were taken away from her. The twins did. They started crying, asking for their mother. Tyrion still tried to drag Lexa away but she wouldn't move.

“No, I want to stay,” she said. “I'll be quiet, I promise.”

“Lexa...” her mother called her in a whisper.

Tyrion let her go and Lexa moved closer to her mother. Dany took her hand in hers.

“I'm sorry... I'm sorry I wasn't there for you when I needed to be...”

Lexa frowned and sniffed, brushing tears away.

“You were always there for me,” she promised.

“You'll have to take care of them, when I can't...”

Lexa nodded. She had no answer to that. She thought the blood loss was making her mother delirious, there were no other explanations.

“I love you. And I love them too, you'll have to tell them when I can't...”

Lexa nodded.

“I love you too.”

Dany smiled and closed her eyes, her hand growing limp. Tyrion almost dragged Lexa away.

“Let your mother rest now, please...”

Lexa let herself be forced out of the room, tears still streaming down her face. The door closed behind her, and she let her mother rest. Daenerys never woke again.

* * *

A pyre had been built in the Dragon Pit. The entire court attended. Drogon had disappeared almost as soon as the news of his mother's death had been announced. Lexa assumed he had sensed his bonded rider leave this world. He had been seen flying east. He would come back, she knew. He was still young. Balerion had been bonded with at least four Targaryens after Aegon. Maybe one day he would bond with one of her siblings. Rhaegal had remained in the pit. He was standing over his mother's dead body. If dragons could cry, Lexa knew, Rhaegal would.

She was supposed to give a speech. She was supposed to light up her mother's pyre. The entire court was waiting on her. The Unsullied and the Dothraki too. Their return east had been post-point by the death of their Khaleesi. Everyone was expecting Lexa to say something, to do something. She was the new Queen, after all. She hadn't been able to come up with anything, not a single word to honor her mother's memory, nothing but tears and sorrow knotting her throat.

Tyrion had spoken instead:

"Queen Daenerys had a good heart. She was strong, stronger than all of us, both in her determination to do the right thing and in her belief in others. Though her reign was short, she will be remembered. Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, the Mother of Dragon, the Breaker of Chains, the Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea. Whether the Gods welcome her in the Seven Heavens or her soul finds its way to the Nightlands, she has served the people under her rule with fairness and compassion. It is time for her to rest."

Tyrion came to stand in the crowd once again, and Lexa was handed a torch by Grey Worm. She stared at it longly. What was she supposed to do with it? She looked at Grey Worm, thinking he might have the answer. He waited, torch still held toward Lexa. Lexa took it but didn't move. She remained in the middle of the crowd, the torch in hand. Everyone waited. Tyrion glanced at her as if trying to encourage her to move forward. Lexa didn't.

She felt a hand slide into hers. Anya was standing beside her and slowly pulling her along. Lexa's feet started working again. Anya led her to the pyre. Lexa stopped right in front of it. Her mother was laying still on the pile of wood. She still looked pale and tired, even with her hair done. She was wearing the same outfit she wore barely a few months ago when they had taken the capital. A different pin held her cape, however, as Lexa had insisted on keeping the real one.

The torch was still burning in Lexa's hand. She looked at Anya, unsure of what she was supposed to do now. She looked back at her mother's body. Her eyes filled with tears. Every time she didn't think she had any tears left, more came. Above her, Rhaegal had moved closer as well. Lexa thought he was going to try to shake their mother again. Both he and Drogon had tried many times to bring her back, but no matter how much they pushed her with their muzzle it didn't bring her back. 

Lexa placed the torch under the pyre and walked away quickly. She didn't return into the crowd, she walked past them and out of the pit. She heard Rhaegal spewing fire behind her, the shouts of the scared crowd. She ignored them and walked back to the castle, alone.

* * *

After lunch, Tyrion insisted Lexa took a nap. She'd barely slept the previous few nights and he wanted her to rest as much as possible. He accompanied her back to her bedroom. The corridors were filled with the cries of the twins. Much like Lexa they had barely slept and cried most of the night. Their bedroom was across the hall from Lexa's.

“Why won't they stop crying?” Lexa asked.

“I don't know,” Tyrion replied. “I suppose babies do cry a lot.”

When they reached Lexa's bedroom, she turned right instead of left and went into the twins' room. Tyrion followed her inside carefully. Their wetnurse was trying to calm them down, but she looked just as tired as the twins themselves. She had Aegon in her arms, while Lyanna was fretting in her crib.

“Your Grace,” the wetnurse tried to salute Lexa.

Lexa ignored her and stopped in front of Lyanna's crib. She looked down at the baby. Her face was red, her eyes squinted angrily. Lexa hadn't seen her eyes since she'd been born, as she was either sleeping or crying all the time.

Behind her, Tyrion looked at her worriedly.

“Lexa?” he asked with apprehension.

“I think I know how to calm them down.”

She picked up Lyanna from her crib carefully and took her in her arms. Already Lyanna calmed slightly. She ordered the wetnurse to follow her in her room. Her bed was big enough for both her and the two twins to rest without either of them falling off. She placed Lyanna in the middle of the bed and had Aegon placed beside his sister, a pillow keeping him from rolling off on the other side. Tyrion watched her do curiously. Then, she laid down beside Lyanna.

“I think we'll take a nap all together,” Lexa decided.

“Of course,” Tyrion said. “I'll tell their wetnurse to wait outside just in case.”

He left the room, still somewhat surprised by Lexa's initiative. Once the door was closed, Lexa pushed herself up. She placed a kiss on Lyanna's forehead, light as a feather, then one of Aegon's forehead. She laid back down on her side so she could look at her siblings.

“Mom loves you very much,” she told them. “She loves you, and I love you too.”

The twins seemed to settle down. They stopped crying and looked at their older sister with interest. Lyanna's eyes had turned grayer with time, and Aegon's were still undecided, between blue and gray and lilac.

“Mom was born in Dragonstone, during the biggest storm people had ever seen. She lost her mom too when she was born, and they had to take her away to Essos. Essos is hot, but it's nice. I'll tell you more about it one day. Maybe we could all go together. Anyway, Mom grew up in Essos, and then she married my dad. I'll tell you about your dad one day. My dad also died before I was born. Mom gave birth to me in the desert, and from there, she worked tirelessly to bring us all back here, so we have to be grateful to her for that. We owe her everything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If it makes you guys feel any better, I was crying the entire time I wrote the ending, and I still cry every time I read it...  
I don't think there's anything more that I could add beside thank you for reading the story till the end, and I hope you have a nice weekend.

**Author's Note:**

> Don't forget to leave comments to tell me that my suffering wasn't in vain! See you on Saturday!


End file.
